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I 













The Luckiest Girl in the School 




*4 




C 831 


“‘THOSE aren’t my PAPERS,’ WINONA FALTERED 




The Luckiest Girl 
in the School 

BY 

ANGELA BRAZIL 
\\ 

Illustrated by Balliol Salmon 




NEW YORK 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1916, by 

Frederick A. Stokes Company 


All Rights Reserved 



First Published in the United States 
of America, 1922. 


M -I 1222 
©CUfi6) 89 R 


CONTENTS 


• after page 


I. 

A Great Change 




I 

* II. 

An Entrance Examination 




15 

III. 

Seaton High School 




30 

IV. 

The Symposium . 




42 

V. 

Aunt Harriet 




58 

VI. 

A Crisis 




73 

VII. 

An Autumn Foray . 




87 

VIII. 

Concerns a Camera . 




102 

IX. 

The School Service Badge 




116 

X. 

A Scare .... 




130 

XI. 

The Open-air Camp . 




143 

XII. 

Captain Winona 




158 

XIII. 

The Hostel 




167 

XIV. 

The Hockey Season . 




181 

XV. 

Winona turns Chauffeur 




193 

XVI. 

The Athletic Display 




2og 

XVII. 

Back to the Land 




222 

XVIII. 

A Friend in Need 




236 

XIX. 

The Swimming Contest . 




251 

XX. 

The Red Cross Hospital . 




265 

XXI. 

The End of the Term 




278 










ILLUSTRATIONS 


“ ‘Those aren’t my papers,’ Winona faltered” Frontispiece 

FACING 

PACE 

“‘Percy! Ybu’ve never burnt Aunt Harriet’s will?”’ 70 

“To see a real live airman at such close quarters was 

not an ordinary experience” 172 

“Winona stopped the car beside the hedge and, stand- 
ing up, waved her handkerchief as a signal of dis- 
tress” 206 

“ ‘Oh, Garnet, I’m so sorry! Will the doctor let you 

take the exams, at all?”’ 240 

“The barrier was down at last” 276 





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I 



The Luckiest Girl in the School 



\ 


THE LUCKIEST GIRL 
IN THE SCHOOL 


CHAPTER I 

A Great Change 

“There’s no doubt about it, we really must econ- 
omize somehow 1” sighed Mrs. Woodward help- 
lessly, with her housekeeping book in one hand, and 
her bank pass-book in the other, and an array of 
bills spread out on the table in front of her. “Chil- 
dren, do you hear what I say? The war will make 
a great difference to our income, and we can’t — 
simply can’t — go on living in exactly the old way. 
The sooner we all realize it the better. I wish I 
knew where to begin.” 

“Might knock off going to church, and save the 
money we give in collections I” suggested Percy flip- 
pantly. “It must tot up to quite a decent sum in the 
course of a year, not to mention pew rent I” 

His mother cast a reproachful glance at him. 

“Now, Percy, do be serious for once! You and 
Winona are quite old enough to understand business 
matters. I must discuss them with somebody. As 
I said before, we shall really have to economize 
somehow, and the question is where to begin.” 


2 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

“I saw some hints in a magazine the other day,” 
volunteered Winona, hunting among a pile of papers, 
and fishing up a copy of The Housewife's Journal. 
“Here you are I There’s a whole article on War 
Economies. It says you can halve your expenses if 
you only try. It gives ten different recipes. Num- 
ber One, Dispense with Servants. Oh, goody! I 
don’t know how the house would get along without 
Maggie and Mary! Isn’t that rather stiff?” 

“It’s impossible to be thought of for a moment! 
I should never dream of dismissing maids who have 
lived with me for years. I’ve read that article, and 
it may be practicable for other people, but certainly 
not for us. Oh, dear! Some of my friends rec- 
ommend me to remove to the town, and others say 
‘Stay where you are, and keep poultry!’ ” 

“We can’t leave Highfield! We were all born 
here!” objected Winona decisively. 

“And we tried keeping hens some time ago,” said 
Percy. “They laid on an average three-quarters of 
an egg a year each, as far as I remember.’ 

“I’m afraid we didn’t know how to manage them,” 
replied Mrs. Woodward fretfully. “Percy, leave 
those papers alone ! I didn’t tell you to turn them 
over. You’re mixing them all up, tiresome boy! 
Don’t touch them again ! It’s no use trying to dis- 
cuss business with you children! I shall write and 
consult Aunt Harriet. Go away, both of you, now! 
I want to have a quiet half-hour.” 

Aunt Harriet stood to the Woodward family 
somewhat in the light of a Delphic oracle. To apply 
to her was always the very last resource. Matters 


A Great Change 3 

must have reached a crisis, Winona thought, if they 
were obliged to appeal to Aunt Harriet’s judgment. 
She followed Percy into the garden with a sober 
look on her face. 

“You don’t think mother would really leave High- 
held?” she asked her brother anxiously. 

“Bunkum!” replied that light-hearted youth. 
“We always have more or less of a fuss when my 
school bills come in. It’ll soon fizzle out again! 
Don’t you fret yourself. Things will jog on as they 
always have jogged on. There’ll be nothing done, 
you’ll see. Come on and bowl for me, that’s a 
chubby one !” 

“But this time mother really seemed to be in 
earnest,” said Winona meditatively, as she helped 
to put up the stumps. 

Mrs. Woodward had been left a widow three 
years before this story opens. She was a fair, 
fragile little woman, still pretty, and pathetically 
helpless. She had been accustomed to lean upon 
her husband, and now, for lack of firmer support, 
she leaned upon Winona. Winona was young to act 
as prop, and though It flattered her sense of im- 
portance, it had put a row of wrinkles on her girlish 
forehead. At fifteen she seemed much older than 
Percy at sixteen. No one ever dreamt of taking 
Percy seriously; he was one of those jolly, easy- 
going, happy-go-lucky, unreliable people who saunter 
through life with no other aim than to amuse them- 
selves at all costs. To depend upon him was like 
trusting to a boat without a bottom. Though nom- 
inally the eldest, he had little more sense of re- 


4 The Luckiest Girl in School 

sponsibility than Ernie, the youngest. It was Wi- 
nona who shouldered the family burdens. 

The Woodwards had always lived at Highfield, 
and in their opinion it was the most desirable resi- 
dence in the whole of Rytonshire. The house was 
old enough to be picturesque, but modern enough 
for comfort. Its quaint gables, mullioned windows 
and Cromwellian porch were the joy of photogra- 
phers, while the old-fashioned hall, when the big 
log fire was lighted, would be hard to beat for cozi- 
ness. The schoolroom, on the ground floor, had 
a separate side entrance on to the lawn, leading 
through a small ante-room where boots and coats 
and cricket bats and tennis rackets could be kept; 
the drawing-room had a luxurious ingle nook with 
cushioned seats, and all the bedrooms but two had 
a southern aspect. As for the big rambling garden, 
it was full of delightful old-world flowers that came 
up year after year: daffodils and violets and snow- 
flakes, and clumps of pinks, and orange lilies and 
Canterbury bells, and tall Michaelmas daisies, and 
ribbon grass and royal Osmunda fern, the sort of 
flowers that people used to pick in days gone by, put 
a paper frill round, and call a nosegay or a posy. 
There was a lawn for tennis and cricket, a pond 
planted with irises and bulrushes, and a wild cor- 
ner where crocuses and coltsfoot and golden aconite 
came up as they liked in the spring time. 

Winona loved this garden with somewhat the 
same attachment that a French peasant bears for 
the soil upon which he has been reared. She re- 
joiced in every yard of it. To go away and resign 


A Great Change 5 

it to others would be tragedy unspeakable. The 
fear that Aunt Harriet might recommend the family 
to leave Highfield was sufficient to darken her hori- 
zon indefinitely. That her mother had written to 
consult the oracle she was well aware, for she had 
been sent to post the letter. She had an instinctive 
apprehension that the answer would prove a turning- 
point in her career. 

For a day or two everything went on as usual. 
Mrs. Woodward did not again allude to her diffi- 
culties, Percy had conveniently forgotten them, and 
the younger children were not aware of their exist- 
ence. Winona lived with a black spot dancing be- 
fore her mental eyes. It was continually rising up 
and blotting out the sunshine. On the fourth morn- 
ing appeared a letter addressed in an old-fashioned 
slanting handwriting, and bearing the Seaton post 
mark. Mrs. Woodward read it in silence, and left 
her toast unfinished. Aunt Harriet’s communica- 
tions generally upset her for the day. 

“Come here, Winona,” she said agitatedly, after 
breakfast. “Oh, dear, I wish I knew what to do! 
It’s so very unexpected, but of course it would be a 
splendid thing for you. If only I could consult 
somebody! I suppose girls nowadays will have to 
learn to support themselves, and the war will alter 
everything, but I’d always meant you to stop at 
home and look after the little ones for me, and 
it’s very ” 

“What does Aunt Harriet say, mother?” inter- 
rupted Winona, with a catch in her throat. 

“She says a great deal, and I dare say she’s right. 


6 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Oh, this terrible war! Things were so diflterent 
when I was a girl 1 You might as well read the let- 
ter for yourself, as it concerns you. I always think 
she’s hard on Percy, poor lad! I was afraid the 
children were too noisy the last time she was here, 
but they wouldn’t keep quiet. I’m sure I try to 
do my best all round, and you know, Winona, how 
I said Aunt Harriet ” 

But Winona was already devouring the letter. 

“lO Abbey Close, 

“Seaton, 

“August 26th. 

“My Dear Florita, — You are quite right to 
consult me in your difficulties, and are welcome to 
any advice which I am able to offer you. I am 
sorry to hear of your financial embarrassments, but 
I am not surprised. The present Increase In the 
cost of living, and extra taxation, will make retrench- 
ments necessary to everybody. In the circumstances 
I should not advise you to leave Highfield. (“Oh, 
thank goodness!” ejaculated Winona.) The ex- 
pense of a removal would probably cancel what 
you would otherwise save. Neither should I rec- 
ommend you to take Percy from Longworth Col- 
lege and send him daily to be coached by your par- 
ish curate. From my knowledge of his character I 
consider the discipline of a public school to be In- 
dispensable if he is to grow Into worthy manhood, 
and sooner than allow the wholesome restraint of 
his house master to be removed at this critical por- 
tion of his life, I will myself defray half the cost of 
his maintenance for the next two years. 


A Great Change 7 

“Now as regards Winona. I believe she has 
ability, and it is high time to begin to think seriously 
what you mean to do with her. In the future women 
will have to depend upon themselves, and I consider 
that all girls should be trained to gain their own 
living. The foundation of every career is a good 
education — ^without this it is impossible to build at 
all, and Winona certainly cannot obtain it if she 
remains at home. The new High School at Seaton 
is offering two open Scholarships to girls resident 
in the County, the examination for which is on 
September 8th. I propose that Winona enters for 
this examination, and that if she should be a success- 
ful candidate, she should come to live with me dur- 
ing the period of her attendance at the High School. 
iThe education is ^he best possible, there is a pros- 
pect of a University Scholarship to be competed for, 
and every help and encouragement is given to the 
girls in their choice of a career. With Winona off 
your hands, I should suggest that you should en- 
gage a competent nursery governess to teach the 
younger children the elements of order and disci- 
pline. I would gladly pay her salary on the un- 
derstanding that I should myself select her. 

“Trusting that these proposals may be of some 
service, and hoping to hear a better account of your 
health, 

“I remain, 

“Your affectionate Aunt 

“and Godmother, 

“Harriet Beach.” 

Winona laid down the letter with an agitated 


8 The Luckiest Girl in School 

gasp. The proposition almost took her breath 
away. 

“What an idea!” she exclaimed indignantly. 
“Mother, of course you won’t even dream of it for 
an instant I I’d hate to go and live with Aunt Har- 
riet. It’s not to be thought of 1” 

“Well, I don’t know, Winona!” wavered Mrs. 
Woodward. “We must look at it from all sides, 
and perhaps Aunt Harriet’s right, and it really would 
be for the best. Miss Harmon’s a poor teacher, 
and I’m sure your music, at any rate, is not a credit 
to her. You played that last piece shockingly out 
of time. You know you said yourself that you were 
getting beyond Miss Harmon!” 

Whatever impeachments Winona may have 
brought against her teacher, she was certainly not 
prepared to admit them now. She rejected the proj- 
ect of the Seaton High School with the utmost en- 
ergy and determination, bringing into the fray all 
that force of character which her mother lacked. 
Poor Mrs. Woodward vacillated feebly — she was 
generally swayed by whoever was nearest at the 
moment — and I verily believe Winona’s arguments 
would have prevailed, and the whole scheme would 
have been abandoned, had not Mr. Joynson oppor- 
tunely happened to turn up. 

Mr. Joynson was a solicitor, and the trustee of 
Mrs. Woodward’s property. He managed most of 
her business affairs, and some of her private ones 
as well. She had confidence in his judgment, and 
she at once thankfully submitted the question of 
Winona’s future to his decision. 


A Great Change 9 

“The very thing for her!” he declared. “Do 
her a world of good to go to a proper school. She’s 
frittering her time away here. Send her to Seaton 
by all means. What are you to do without her? 
Nonsense! Nobody’s indispensable — especially a 
girl of fifteen! Pack her off as soon as you can. 
Doesn’t want to go? Oh, she’ll sing a different 
song when once she gets there, you’ll see !” 

Thus supported by masculine authority, Mrs. 
Woodward settled the question In the affirmative, 
and replied to her aunt by return of post. 

Naturally such a stupendous event as the exodus 
of Winona made a sensation in the household. 

“Well, of all the rum shows!” exclaimed Percy. 
“You and Aunt Harriet in double harness ! It beats 
me altogether!” 

“It’s atrocious!” groaned Winona. “I’m a vic- 
tim sacrificed for the good of the family. Oh! 
why couldn’t mother have thought of some other 
way of economizing? I don’t want to win scholar- 
ships and go in for a career!” 

“Buck up ! Perhaps you won’t win ! There’ll be 
others in for the exam., you bet! You’ll probably 
fail, and come whining home like a whipped puppy 
with its tail between its legs !” 

“Indeed I shan’t!” flared Winona indignantly. 
“I’ve a little more spirit than that, thank you! 
And why should you Imagine I’m going to fail? 
I suppose I’ve as much brains as most people!” 

“That’s right! Upset the pepper-pot! I was 
only trying to comfort you!” teased Percy. “In 
my opinion you’ll be returned like a bad halfpenny. 


lo The Luckiest Girl in School 

or one of those articles ‘of no use to anybody except 
the owner.’ Aunt Harriet will be cheated of her 
prey after all!” 

“If Win goes away, I shall be the eldest daughter 
at home,” said Letty airily, shaking out her short 
skirts. “I’ll sit at the end of the table, and pour 
out tea if mother has a headache, and unlock the 
apple room, and use the best inkpot if I like, and 
have first innings at the piano.” 

“You forget about the nursery governess,” re- 
torted Winona. “If I go, she comes, and you’ll find 
you’ve exchanged King Log for King Stork. Oh, 
very well, just wait and see 1 It won’t be as idyllic 
as you imagine. I shall be saved the trouble of 
looking after you, at any rate.” 

“What I’m trying to ascertain, madam,” said 
Percy blandly, “is whether your ladyship wishes to 
take up your residence in Seaton or not. With the 
usual perversity of your sex you pursue a pig policy. 
When I venture to picture you seated at the board 
of your venerable aunt, you protest you are a sac- 
rifice; when, on the other hand, I suggest your return 
to the bosom of your family, you revile me equally.” 

“You’re the most unsympathetic beast I’ve ever 
met!” declared Winona aggrievedly. 

When she analyzed her feelings, however, she was 
obliged to allow that they were mixed. Though the 
prospect of settling down at Seaton filled her with 
dismay, Percy’s gibe at her probable failure touched 
her pride. Winona had always been counted as the 
clever member of the family. It would be too ig- 
nominious to be sent home labeled unfit. She set 


A Great Change n 

her teeth and clenched her fists at the bare notion. 

“I’ll show them all what I can do if I take a thing 
up !” she resolved. 

In the meantime Mrs. Woodward was immersed 
in the subject of clothing. Every post brought her 
boxes of patterns, amongst which she hesitated, lost 
in choice. 

“If I knew whether you’re really going to stay at 
Seaton or not, it would make all the difference, 
Winona,” she fluttered. “It’s no use buying you 
these new things if you’re only to wear them at 
home, but I’d make an effort to send you nice to 
Aunt Harriet’s. I know she’ll criticize everything 
you have on. Dear me, I think I’d better risk it! 
It would be such a nuisance to have to write for 
the patterns all over again, and how could I get 
your dresses fitted when you weren’t here to be tried 
on? Miss Jones is at liberty now, and can come 
for a week’s sewing, but she’ll probably be busy 
if I want her later. Now tell me, which do you 
really think is the prettier of these two shades? I 
like the fawn, but I believe the material will spot. 
What have you done with the lace collar Aunt 
Harriet gave you last Christmas? She’s sure to 
ask about it if you don’t wear it!” 

Having decided that on the whole she intended to 
win a scholarship, Winona bluffed off the matter of 
her departure. 

“I’ve changed my mind, that’s all,” she announced 
to her home circle. “It will be a great comfort to 
me not to hear Mamie scraping away at her violin 
in the evenings, or Letty strumming at scales. Think 


12 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

what a relief not to be obliged to rout up Dorrie 
and Godfrey, and haul them off to school every 
day! I’m tired of setting an example. You needn’t 
snigger 1” 

The family grinned appreciatively. They under- 
stood Winona. 

“Don’t you worry! I’ll set the example when 
you’re gone,” Letty assured her. “I’ll be as im- 
proving as a copy-book. I wish I’d your chance; 
I’d stand Aunt Harriet for the sake of going to a 
big High School. Younger sisters never have any 
luck! Eldests just sweep the board. I don’t know 
where we come in!” 

“Don’t you fret, young ’un, you’ll score later on!” 
cooed an indulgent voice from the sofa, where Percy 
sprawled with a book and a bag of walnuts. “Re- 
member that when you’re still in all the bliss and 
sparkle of your teens, Winona’ll be a mature and 
passee person of twenty-two. ‘That eldest Miss 
Woodward’s getting on, you know !’ people will say, 
and somebody’ll reply: ‘Yes, poor thing!’ ” 

“They won’t when I’ve got a career,” retorted 
Winona, pelting Percy with his own walnut-shells. 

“You assured us the other day that you despised 
such vanities.” 

“Well, it depends. Perhaps I’ll be a lady tram 
conductor, and punch tickets, or a post-woman, or 
drive a Government van!” 

“If those are careers for girls, bag me for a 
steeple jack,” chirped Dorrie. 

It was perhaps a good thing for Winona that 
such a short Interval elapsed between the acceptance 


A Great Change 13 

of Aunt Harriet’s proposal and the date of the 
scholarship examination. The ten days were very 
busy ones, for there seemed much to be done in 
the way of preparation. Miss Jones, the dress- 
maker, was installed in the nursery with the sewing- 
machine, and demanded frequent tryings-on, a proc- 
ess Winona hated. 

“I shall buy all my clothes ready made when I’m 
grown' up!” she declared. 

“They very seldom fit, and have to be altered,” 
returned her mother. “Do stand still, Winona! 
And I hope you’re learning up a few dates and facts 
for this examination. You ought to be studying 
every morning. If only Miss Harmon were home. 
I’d have asked her to coach you. I’m afraid she’ll 
be disappointed at your leaving, but of course she 
can’t expect to keep you for ever. I heard a rumor 
that she means to give up her school altogether, 
and go and live with her uncle. I 'hope It’s true, 
and then I can take the little ones away with an 
easy conscience. I don’t want to treat her badly, 
poor thing, but I’m sure teaching’s not her vocation.” 

Winona really made a heroic effort to prepare 
herself for the coming ordeal. She retired to a 
secluded part of the garden and read over her latest 
school books. The process landed her in the depths 
of despondency. 

“I’ll never remember anything — never!” she 
mourned to her family. “To try and get all this 
Into my head at once is like bolting a week’s meals 
at a single go! I know a date here and there, and 
I’ve a hazy notion of French and Latin verbs, and a 


14 The Luckiest Girl in School 

general impression of other subjects, but if they ask 
me for anything definite, such as the battles of the 
Wars of the Roses, or a list of the products of India, 
I’m done fori” 

“Go in for Post-Impressionism, then,” suggested 
Percy. “Write from a romantic standpoint, and 
don’t condescend to mere facts. Stick In a quotation 
or two, and a drawing if possible, and make your 
paper sound eloquent and dramatic and poetical, 
and all the rest of it. They’ll mark you low for 
accuracy, but put you on ten per cent, for style, you 
bet I I know a chap who tries it on at the Coll., and 
it always pays.” 

“It’s worth thinking about, certainly,” said 
Winona, shutting her books with a weary yawn. 


CHAPTER II 

An Entrance Examination 

The Seaton High School was a large, handsome 
brick building exactly opposite the public park. It 
had only been erected two years ago, so everything 
about it was absolutely new and up-to-date. It sup- 
plied a great need in the rapidly growing city, and 
indeed offered the best and most go-ahead education 
to be obtained in the district. 

It was the aim of the school to fit girls for various 
professions and careers; there was a classical and a 
modern side, a department for domestic economy, 
and a commercial class for instruction in business 
details. Art, music, and nature study were well 
catered for, and manual training was not forgotten. 
As the school was intended to become in time a 
center for the county, the Governors had offered 
two open free scholarships to be competed for by 
girls resident in other parts of Rytonshire, hoping 
by this means to attract pupils from the country 
places round about. 

On the morning of September 8th, precisely at 
8.35, Winona presented herself at the school for 
the scholarship examination. There were twenty 
other candidates awaiting the ordeal, in various 
stages of nervousness or sangfroid. Some looked 
dejected, some confident, and others hid their feel- 
iS 


1 6 The Luckiest Girl in School 

ings under a mask of stolidity. Winona joined 
them shyly. They were all unknown to one another, 
and so far nobody had plucked up courage to ven- 
ture a remark. It is horribly depressing to sit on 
a form staring at twenty taciturn strangers. Winona 
bore for awhile with the stony silence, then — rather 
frightened at the sound of her own voice — she an- 
nounced : 

“I suppose we’re all going in for this same exam. I” 
It was a trite commonplace, but it broke the ice. 
Everybody looked relieved. The atmosphere seemed 
to clear. 

“Yes, we’re all going in — that’s right enough,” 
replied a ruddy-haired girl in spectacles, “but there 
are only two scholarships, so nineteen of us are 
bound to fail — that’s logic and mathematics and all 
the rest of it.” 

“Whew ! A nice cheering prospect. Wish they’d 
put us out of our misery at once!” groaned a stout 
girl with a long fair pigtail. 

“I’m all upset!” shivered another. 

“It’s like a game of musical chairs,” suggested a 
fourth. “We’re all scrambling for the same thing, 
and some are bound to be out of it.” 

The ruddy-haired girl laughed nervously. 

“Suppose we’ve got to take our sporting luck!” 
she murmured. 

“If nineteen are sure to lose, two are sure to win 
at any rate,” said Winona. “That’s logic and math- 
ematics and all the rest of it, too !” 

“Right you are! That’s a more cheering creed! 
It doesn’t do to cry ‘Miserere me’ too soon!” 


An Entrance Examination 17 

chirped a jolly-looking dark-eyed girl with a red 
hair-ribbon. “ ‘Never say die till you’re dead,’ is 
my motto!” 

“I’m wearing a swastika for a mascot,” said a 
short, pale girl, exhibiting her charm, which hung 
from a chain round her neck. “I never am lucky, 
so I thought I’d try what this would do for me for 
once. I know English history beautifully down to 
the end of Queen Anne, and no further, and if they 
set any questions on the Georges I’ll be stumped.” 

“I’ve learnt Africa, but Asia would floor me!” 
observed another, looking up from a geography 
book, in which she was making a last desperate clutch 
at likely items of knowledge. “I never can remem- 
ber which side of India Madras is on; I get it hope- 
lessly mixed with Bombay.” 

“I wish to goodness they’d go ahead and begin,” 
mourned the owner of the red hair-ribbon. “It’s 
this waiting that knocks the spirit out of me. Pa- 
tience isn’t my pet virtue. I call it cruelty to animals 
to leave us on tenter-hooks.” 

Almost as if in answer to her pathetic appeal the 
door opened, and a teacher appeared. In a brisk, 
business-like manner she marshaled the candidates 
into line, and conducted them to the door of the 
head-mistress’ study, where one by one they were 
admitted for a brief private interview. Winona’s 
turn came about the middle of the row. 

“Pass in: as quickly as you can, please!” com- 
manded the teacher, motioning her onward. 

As Winona entered, she gave one hasty com- 
prehensive glance round the room, taking in a gen- 


1 8 The Luckiest Girl in School 


eral impression of books, busts and pictures, then 
focussed her attention on the figure that sat at the 
desk. It was only at a later date that she grasped 
any details of Miss Bishop’s personality; at that 
first meeting she realized nothing but the pair of 
compelling blue eyes that drew her forward like 
a magnet. 

“Your name?” 

“Winona Woodward.” 

“Age?” 

“Fifteen.” 

“Residence?” 

“Highfield, Ashbourne, near Great Marston.” 

“How long have you lived in the county of Ryton- 
shire?” 

“Ever since I was born.” 

Miss Bishop hastily ticked off these replies on a 
page of her ledger, and handed Winona a card. 

“This will admit you to the examination room. 
Remember that instead of putting your name at the 
head of your papers, you are to write the number 
given you on your card. Any candidate writing her 
own name will be disqualified. Next girl!” 

It was all over in two minutes. Winona seemed 
hardly to have entered the room before she was out 
again. 

“Move on, please I” said the teacher, marshaling 
the little crowd round the door. “Will those who 
have seen Miss Bishop kindly go along the corridor.” 

Several girls who had been standing in a knot 
made a sudden bolt, and pushed their fellows for- 
ward. Somebody jogged Winona’s elbow. Her 


An Entrance Examination 19 

card slid from her grasp and fell on to the ground. 
As she bent in the crush to pick it up, the ruddy- 
haired girl stooped on a like errand. 

“Dropped mine too! Clumsy, isn’t it?” she 
laughed. “Hope we’ve got our own! What was 
your number?’’ 

“I hadn’t time to look.” 

“Well, I’m sure mine was eleven, so that’s all 
right. I wish you luck! Won’t we just be glad 
when it’s over, rather!” 

At the further end of the corridor was a door 
with a notice pinned on to it. “Examination for 
County Scholarships.” A mistress stood there, and 
scrutinized each girl’s card as she entered, directing 
her to a seat in the room marked with the corre- 
sponding number. Winona walked rather solemnly 
to the desk labeled lo. The great ordeal was at 
last about to begin. She wondered what would be 
the end of it. Little thrills of nervousness seemed 
running down her back like drops from a shower- 
bath. Her hands were trembling. With a great 
effort she pulled herself together. 

“It’s no use funking!” she thought. “I’ll make 
as good a shot as I can at things, and if I fail — well, 
I shall have plenty of companions in misfortune, 
at any rate!” 

A pile of foolscap paper with red-ruled margins, 
a clean sheet of white blotting paper, and a pen- 
holder with a new nib lay ready. Each of the other 
twenty victims was surveying a supply of similar 
material. On the blackboard was chalked the word 
“Silence.” 


20 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

In a dead hush the candidates sat and waited. 
Exactly on the stroke of nine Miss Bishop entered 
and handed a sheaf of printed questions to the 
teacher In charge, who distributed them round the 
room. The subject for the first hour was arith- 
metic. Winona read over her paper slowly. She 
felt capable of managing It, all except the last two 
problem sums, which were outside her experience. 
She knew it would mainly be a question of 
accuracy. 

“I’ll work them each twice If I’ve only time,” 
she thought, starting at number one. 

An hour is after all only made up of sixty min- 
utes, and these seemed to fly with incredible rapid*- 
ity. The teacher on the platform had sternly re- 
proved a girl guilty of counting aloud in an agitated 
whisper, threatening instant expulsion for a repeti- 
tion of such an offense, but with this solitary ex- 
ception nobody transgressed the rules. All sat 
quietly absorbed in their work, and an occasional 
rustle of paper or scratch of a pen were the only 
sounds audible. At precisely five minutes to ten 
the deity on the platform sounded a bell, and or- 
dered papers to be put together. She collected 
them, handed them to another mistress, then with- 
out any break proceeded to deal out the questions 
for the next hour’s examination. This was in geog- 
raphy, and here Winona was not on such sure 
ground. Granted that you are acquainted with cer- 
tain rules In arithmetic, it is always possible to work 
out problems, but It needed more knowledge than 
she possessed to write answers to the riddles that 


An Entrance Examination 21 

confronted her. She had never heard of “The Iron 
Gates,” could not place Alcona and Altona, was 
hazy as to the whereabouts of the Mourne Moun- 
tains, and utterly unable to draw an accurate map 
of the Balkan States. She scored a little on Canada, 
for she had learnt North America last term at 
Miss Harmon’s, but with Australia and New Zea- 
land she was imperfectly acquainted. She wrote 
away, getting hotter and hotter as she realized her 
deficiencies, winding up five minutes before the time 
allotted, in a flushed and decidedly inky condition. 

At eleven a short interval was allowed, and the 
candidates thankfully adjourned. Outside in the 
corridor they compared notes. 

“Well, of all detestable papers this geography 
one is the limit!” declared an aggrieved voice. 

It was the girl who had said that she always 
mixed Madras and Bombay, and who had studied 
her text-book up to the last available moment. Ap- 
parently her eleventh hour industry had not sufficed 
to tide her over her difficulties. 

“It was catchy in parts,” agreed the owner of the 
swastika, “but I liked one or two questions. I just 
happened to know them, so I bowled ahead. That’s 
what comes of wearing a mascot!” 

“Don’t crow too soon !” laughed the girl with the 
fair pigtail. “Bemember, there are four other 
exams, to follow. Your luck may leave you at any 
moment.” 

“Don’t mention more exams.! I feel inclined 
to turn tail and run home !” declared another. 
“There’s the bell! Don’t give us much time, do 


22 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

they? Now for the torture chamber again! Brace 
your nerves!” 

“I wonder if most of them have done better or 
worse than I have!” thought Winona, as she took 
her seat once more at No. lo desk. “A good many 
were grumbling, but that sandy-haired girl in the 
spectacles said nothing. No more did the one with 
the red hair-ribbon. Of course they might be feel- 
ing too agonized for words, but on the other hand 
they might be secretly congratulating themselves.” 

It was not the moment, however, for speculation 
as to her neighbors’ progress. The next set of 
questions was being distributed, and she took up her 
copy eagerly. Her heart fell as she read it over. 
Her knowledge of English history was not very 
accurate, and the facts demanded were for the 
most part exactly those which she could not remem- 
ber. The dread of failure loomed up large. She 
could only attempt about half of the questions, and 
even in these she was not ready with dates. Then 
suddenly Percy’s advice flashed into her mind. 
“Write from a romantic standpoint, and make your 
paper sound poetical.” It seemed rather a forlorn 
hope, and she feared it would scarcely satisfy her 
examiners, but in such a desperate situation anything 
was worth trying. Winona possessed a certain fa- 
cility in essay writing. Prose composition had been 
her favorite lesson at Miss Harmon’s. She col- 
lected her wits now, and did the very utmost of 
which she was capable in the matter of style. 
Choosing question No. 4, “Write a life of Lady 
Jane Grey,” she proceeded to treat the subject in 


An Entrance Examination 23 

as post-impressionist a manner as possible. The 
pathetic tragedy of the young Queen had always 
appealed to her imagination, and she could have 
had no more congenial a theme upon which to write, 
if she had been given free choice of all the charac- 
ters in the history book. 

“ ‘Whom the gods love die young,’ ” she began, 
and paused. It seemed an excellent opening, if she 
could only continue in the same strain, but what 
ought to come next? Her thoughts flew to a paint- 
ing of Lady Jane Grey, which she had once seen 
at a loan collection of Tudor portraits. Why should 
she not describe it? Her pen flew rapidly as she 
wrote a word-picture of the sweet, pale face, so 
round and childish in spite of its earnest expression; 
the smooth yellow hair, the gray eyes bent de- 
murely over the book. Her heroine seemed begin- 
ning to live. Now for her surroundings. A year ago 
Winona had paid a visit to Hampton Court, and 
her remembrance of its associations was still keen 
and vivid. She described its old-world garden by the 
side of the Thames, where the little King Edward 
;VI. must often have roamed with his pretty cousin 
Jane: the two wonderful ill-starred children, play- 
ing for a brief hour in happy unconsciousness of the 
fate that faced them. What did they talk about, 
she asked, as they stood on the paved terrace and 
watched the river hurrying by? Plato, perchance, 
and his philosophy, or the marvelous geography- 
book with woodcuts of foreign beasts that had been 
specially printed for the young king’s use. Did they 
compare notes about theirj tutors? Jane would 


24 The Luckiest Girl in School 

certainly hold a brief for her much-loved Mr. Elmer, 
who, in sharp contrast to her parents’ severity, taught 
her so gently and patiently that she grudged the 
time which was not spent in his presence. Edward 
might bemoan the ill-luck of his whipping-boy, who 
had to bear the floggings which Court etiquette 
denied to the royal shoulders, and perhaps would 
declare that when he was grown up, and could make 
the laws himself, no children should be beaten for 
badly said lessons, and Jane would agree with him, 
and then they would pick the red damask roses that 
Cardinal Wolsey had planted, and walk back under 
the shadow of the clipped yew hedge to eat cherries 
and junket in the room that looked out towards the 
sunset. 

Winona had warmed to her work. Her imagina- 
tion, always her strongest faculty, completely carried 
her away. She pictured her heroine’s life, not from 
the outside, as historians would chronicle it, a mere 
string of events and dates, but from the inner view 
of a girl’s standpoint. Did Jane wish to leave her 
Plato for the bustle of a Court? Did she care for 
the gay young husband forced upon her by her am- 
bitious parents? Surely for her gentle nature a 
crown held few allurements. The clouds were 
gathering thick and fast, and burst in a waterspout 
of utter ruin. Jane’s courage was calm and hopeful 
as that of Socrates in the dialogues she had loved. 

. . your soul Vi^s pure and true, 

The good stars met in your horoscope, 

Made you of spirit, fire and dew.” 


An Entrance Examination 25 

quoted Winona enthusiastically. Browning always 
stirred her blood, and threw her into poetical chan- 
nels. She cast about in her mind for any other ap- 
propriate verses. 

**Ah, broken is the golden bowl, the spirit gone for ever, 

Let the bell toll — a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river. 
Come, let the burial rite be read — the funeral song be sung, 
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young, 
A dirge for her, the doubly dead, in that she died so young.” 

*‘So they finished their foul deed, and laid her to 
rest,” wrote Winona, “the earthly part, that is, 
which perishes, for the true part of her they could 
not touch. Farewell, sweet innocent soul, of whom 
the world was not worthy. To you surely may apply 
iAndre de Chenier’s tender lines : 

“ ‘Au banquet de la vie a peine commence 
Un instant seulement mes levres ont presse 
La coupe en mes mains encore pleine.’ 

Yale, little Queen ! May it be well with thee I Ave 
atque vale I” 

Winona glanced anxiously at the clock as with a 
hard breath she paused for a moment and laid down 
her pen. Her theme had taken her so long that she 
had only ten minutes left for the other questions. 
There was no romantic side to be expressed in these, 
so she scribbled away half-heartedly. Her uncertain 
memory, which had read^y supplied quotations from 
Browning or Edgar Allan Poe, struck altogether 
when asked for such sordid details as the names of 


26 The Luckiest Girl in School 

the Cabal ministry, or the history of the Long Par- 
liament. The bell rang, and left her with her paper 
only half finished. At one o’clock the candidates 
were given an hour’s rest, and a hot lunch was served 
to them in the dining-hall. At two they returned 
to their desks, and the examination continued until 
half-past four. Winona found the questions toler- 
able. She did fairly, but not at all brilliantly. Her 
brains were not accustomed to such long-sustained 
efforts, and as the afternoon wore on, a neuralgic 
headache began, and sent sharp throbs of pain across 
her forehead. It was so irksome to write pages 
of Latin or French verbs; she had to summon all her 
courage to make herself do it. The last hour seemed 
an interminable penance. 

At half-past four, twenty-one rather dispirited 
candidates filed from the room. 

“Well, thank goodness it’s over! I never want 
to write another word in my life. My hand’s stiff 
with cramp I” exclaimed the girl with the red hair- 
ribbon to a sympathetic audience in the passage. 

“It was awful! I didn’t answer half the quest- 
ions. My swastika isn’t worth its salt. I shall give 
it away!” mourned the owner of the mascot. 

“They expected us to know so very much; we 
should be absolute encyclopaedias if we had all that 
pat off at our fingers’ ends!” sighed the girl with the 
fair pig-tail. 

“How did you get on?” Winona asked the ruddy- 
haired girl, who was wiping her spectacles nervously. 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s so hard to tell. I 
answered most of the questions, but of course I can’t 


An Entrance Examination 27 

say whether they’re right or wrong. Wasn’t the 
Latin translation just too horrible? I yearned for 
a dictionary. And some of the French grammar 
questions were absolute catches !” 

“We went on too long,” said Winona. “It would 
have been much better to spread the exam, over two 
days.” 

“Do you think so ? I’d rather have ‘sudden death’ 
myself. It’s such a relief to feel it’s finished. It 
would be wretched to have to begin again to-morrow. 
I hardly slept a wink last night for thinking about 
it. I’m going to try and forget it now.” 

Winona nodded good-by to her fellow candi- 
dates, and took her leave. How many of them 
would she see again, she wondered, and which atnong 
all the number would have the luck? 

“Certainly not myself,” she thought ruefully. 
“I know my papers weren’t up to standard. I 
believe that red-haired girl will be one. She 
looked clever!” 

Winona had spent the preceding night with Aunt 
Harriet, who offered to keep her until the result of 
the examination should be published, but the pros- 
pect of spending a week of suspense at Abbey Close 
was so formidable, that she had begged to be allowed 
to return home, excusing herself on the plea that 
she would like to be with Percy during the remainder 
of his holidays. It was a very subdued Winona who 
reached Highfield next afternoon. 

“Hello, Tiddleywinks 1 You’ve lost the starch 
out of you I” Percy greeted her. “Did they say 
they wouldn’t have you at any price?” 


28 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“The result won’t be out till the fifteenth, but I 
expect I’ve failed,” answered Winona gloomily. 

“Buck up, young ’un! Look at yours truly! I 
fail nine times out of ten, and do I take it to heart?” 

Winona laughed in spite' or herself. Percy’s 
complacency over small achievements was proverbial. 
But she had higher ambitions, and the cloud of de- 
pression soon settled down again. Her temper, not 
always her strong point, displayed a degree of irri- 
tability that drove her family to the verge of mutiny. 

“Really, Winona, I don’t remember you so frac- 
tious since you were cutting your teeth I” complained 
her much-tried mother. 

The days dragged slowly by. Winona had never 
before realized that each hour could hold so many 
minutes. On the morning of the 15 th she came down 
to breakfast with dark rings round her eyes. 

“I shall be glad to be put out of my misery!” she 
thought, as the postman’s rap-tap sounded at the 
door. 

Mamie made a rush for the letter-box, and re- 
turned bearing a foolscap envelope addressed to : 
Miss Winona Woodward, 

Highfield, 

Ashbourne, 

nr. Great Marston. 

Winona opened it with trembling fingers. But as 
she read, her face flushed and her eyes sparkled. 

“I have much pleasure in informing you” (so ran 
the letter) “that the Governors of the Seaton High 
School have decided to award you a Scholarship 
tenable for two years. . . 


An Entrance Examination 29 

In silence she passed the paper to her mother. 

“Congratulations, dear child!” cried Mrs. Wood- 
ward, clapping her hands. “It’s the unexpected that 
happens!” 

“Oh, my goodness!” ejaculated Percy. “You 
never mean to tell me that Tiddleywinks has actually 
been and gone and won!” 


CHAPTER III 


Seaton High School 

The autumn term at Seaton High School began on 
September 22nd. On the 2 1 st Winona set forth with 
great flourish of trumpets, feeling more or less of a 
heroine. To have been selected for a scholarship 
among twenty-one candidates was a distinction that 
even Aunt Harriet would admit. In the brief interval 
pending her departure, her home circle had treated 
her with a respect they had never before accorded 
her. 

“I hope you’ll do well, child,” said her mother, 
half proud and half tearful when it came to the 
parting. “We shall miss you here, but when you get 
on yourself you must help the younger ones. I shall 
look to you to push them on in life.” 

There is a certain satisfaction in the knowledge 
that you are considered the prop of the family. 
Winona’s eyes glowed. In imagination she was al- 
ready Principal of a large school, and providing 
posts as assistant mistresses for Letty, Mamie and 
Doris, that is to say unless she turned her attention 
to medicine, but in that case she could be head of a 
Women’s Hospital, and have them as house surgeons 
or dispensers, or something else equally distinguished 
and profitable. It might even be possible to provide 
occupation for Godfrey or Ernie, though this was 
30 


Seaton High School 31 

likely to prove a tougher job than placing the girls. 
With such a brilliant beginning, the future seemed 
an easy walk-over. 

Mrs. Woodward was exulting over the fact that 
she had engaged Miss Jones when she did, and that 
Winona’s school clothes were all made and finished. 
There had been a fluster at the last, when it was 
discovered that her mackintosh was fully six inches 
too short for her new skirts, and that she had out- 
grown her thick boots, but a hurried visit to Great 
Marston had remedied these deficiencies, and the box 
was packed to everybody’s satisfaction. There was a 
universal feeling in the family that such an outfit 
could not fail to meet with Aunt Harriet’s approval. 
The first sight of the nightdress case and the brush- 
and-comb bag must wring admiration from her. 
They had been bought at a bazaar, and were alto- 
gether superior to those in daily use. As for the 
handkerchief case, Letty had decided that unless one 
equally well embroidered were presented to her on 
her next birthday, she would be obliged to assert her 
individuality by showing temper. 

Winona walked into the dressing-room of the 
High School on September 22nd with a mixture of 
shyness and importance. On the whole the latter 
predominated. It was a trifle embarrassing to face 
so many strangers, but it was something to have won 
a scholarship. She wondered who was the other 
fortunate candidate. 

“I expect It will be that red-haired girl with the 
spectacles,” she thought. “I believe she answered 
every question, though she was rather quiet about it.” 


32 The Luckiest Girl in School 

She looked round, but could not see the ruddy 
locks, nor indeed any of the companions who had 
taken the examination with her. 

“Hunting for some one you know?” asked a girl 
who had appropriated the next hook to hers. 

“Yes, at least I’m not sure whether she’ll be here 
or not. I believe her name’s Marjorie Kaye.” 

“Never heard of her!” 

“There are heaps of new girls,” volunteered 
another who stood by. 

“I wondered if she’d won a County Scholarship,” 
added Winona. 

“Ask me a harder! I tell you I’ve never heard 
her name before.” 

“I’ve won the other scholarship.” 

Winona’s voice was intended to sound very casual. 

“Indeed!” 

Her neighbor was taking off her boots, and did 
not seem as much impressed as the occasion mer- 
ited. 

“Oh ! so you’re one of the ‘outlanders,’ ” sniggered 
another. “It’s a sort of ‘go into the highways and 
hedges and compel them to come in’ business.” 

“I suppose we shall be having Council School 
Scholarships next!” drawled a third. 

They were friends, and went off together without 
another glance at Winona. She followed soberly, 
wondering what she ought to do next. She had a 
vague idea that the winner of a scholarship should 
present herself at the Head Mistress’ study to receive 
a few words of encouragement and congratulation on 
her successs. At the top of the stairs she met the 


Seaton High School 33 

mistress who had presided over the examination. 
The latter greeted her unceremoniously. 

“Winona Woodward, you’ve been placed in V.A., 
first room to the right, round the corner. You’ll 
find the number on the door.’’ 

Other girls were hurrying in the same direction. 
Winona entered with what seemed to her quite a 
small crowd. Everybody appeared to know where 
to go, except herself. She stood in such evident 
hesitation that one, more good-natured than the rest, 
remarked: 

“You’d better seize on any desk you fancy, as 
quick as you can. They’re getting taken up fast, if 
you want a front one !” 

Winona slid into the nearest seat at hand, and 
appropriated it by placing her note-book, pencil-box, 
ruler, atlas and dictionaries inside the desk. 

The room was filling quickly. Every moment 
fresh arrivals hurried in and took their places. 
Marjorie Kaye was nowhere to be seen, but in the 
second row sat the dark-eyed girl with the red ribbon 
in her hair. She turned round and nodded pleasantly. 

“So she’s got the other scholarship I” thought 
Winona. “I shouldn’t have expected it. I’d have 
staked my reputation on the sandy-haired one. Well, 
I suppose her answers weren’t correct, after all. I’m 
rather glad on the whole it’s this girl; she looks 
jolly.” 

At that moment Miss Huntley, the form mistress, 
entered and took the call-over, and the day’s work 
began. Each girl was given a time-table and a list 
of the books she would require, and after that, class 


34 The Luckiest Girl in School 

succeeded class until one o’clock, with a ten minutes’ 
interval for lunch at eleven. The conclusion of the 
morning left Winona with a profound respect for 
High School methods. After the easy-going routine 
of Miss Harmon’s it was like stepping into a new 
educational world. She supposed she would be able 
to keep pace with it when she got her books, but the 
mathematics, at any rate, were much more advanced 
than what she had before attempted. As she walked 
down the corridor, the girl with the red hair-ribbon 
overtook her, and claimed acquaintance. 

“So you’re Winona Woodward? And I’m Garnet 
Emerson. We had the luck, after all! I’m sure I 
never expected to win. It was the greatest surprise 
to me when the letter arrived. Yes, five of the other 
candidates are at school, but they’ve been put in 
IV.A., and IV.B. Marjorie Kaye? You mean that 
girl in spectacles? No, she’s not come. I heard her 
say that if she didn’t win she was to be sent some- 
where else. Where are you staying? With an aunt? 
I’m with a second cousin. She’s nice, but I wish they’d 
open a hostel ; it would be topping to be with a heap 
of others, wouldn’t it? We’d get up acting in the 
evenings, and all sorts of fun. Well, perhaps that 
may come later on. I shall see you this afternoon, 
shan’t I?” 

“Yes, I’m coming for my books. It’s too late to 
stop and get them now.” 

Afternoon attendance at the High School was not 
nominally compulsory. All the principal subjects 
were taken in the morning, but there were classes for 
drawing, singing or physical culture from half-past 


Seaton High School 35 

two until four, and practically very few girls had 
more than one free afternoon in a week. Any who 
liked might do preparation in their own form room, 
and many availed themselves of the permission, 
especially those who came from a distance, and 
stayed for dinner at the school. When Winona first 
examined her time-table she had not considered its 
demands excessively formidable, but before she had 
been a week at Seaton she began to realize that she 
would have very few spare moments to call her own. 
Miss Bishop believed in girls being fully occupied, 
and in addition to the ordinary form work, expected 
every one to take part in the games, and in the 
numerous societies and guilds which had been 
instituted. Winona found that she was required to 
join the Debating Club, and the Patriotic Knitting 
Guild, while a Dramatic Society and a Literary 
Association would be prepared to open their doors 
to her if she proved worthy of admission. So far, 
however, she considered that she had enough on her 
hands. The demands of her new life were almost 
overwhelming, and she lived from day to day in a 
whirl of fresh experiences. It took her some time 
even to grasp the names of the seventeen other girls 
in her form. Audrey Redfern, her left-hand neigh- 
bor, was friendly, but Olave Parry, at the desk 
in front, ignored her very existence. She gathered 
that Audrey, like herself, was a new-comer, while 
Clave had attended the school since its foundation; 
but she did not realize the significance of this in the 
difference of their behavior to her. The fact was 
that the three new girls in the form were on proba- 


36 The Luckiest Girl in School 

tion. The others, who had come up from the Lower 
School, and were well versed in the traditions of the 
place, were not willing to admit them too quickly 
into favor. They talked them over in private. 

“Audrey Redfern seems a decent enough little 
soul,” said Estelle Harrison. “There’s really nothing 
offensive about her, to my mind. Garnet Emerson 
I rather like. I fancy she could be jolly. I’m going 
to speak to her in a day or two, but not too soon.” 

“What do you think of Winona Woodward?” 
queried Bessie Kirk. 

“Much too big an opinion of herself. Began 
bragging about her scholarship first thing. She 
needs sitting upon, to my mind.” 

“She’s pretty!” 

“Yes, and she knows it, tool” 

“Well, she can’t help knowing it. I call her most 
striking looking. Her eyes are lovely, though I never 
can make out whether they’re dark gray or hazel 
under those long lashes. Her hair’s just the color 
of bronze, and such a lot of it 1 It beats Joyce New- 
ton’s hollow; besides, Joyce has absolutely white 
eyelashes.” 

“Like a pig’s 1” laughed Hilda Langley. “I agree 
with you that Winona’s pretty, but I don’t think she’ll 
ever be a chum of mine, all the same.” 

The result of the stand-off attitude on the part of 
the rest of the form was the cementing of a close 
friendship between Winona and Garnet. It seemed 
natural for the holders of the two County Scholar- 
ships to become chums, also they found each other’s 
society congenial. It marked a new epoch for Wi- 


Seaton High School 37 

nona. She had had few friends of her own age. 
She had been the eldest pupil at Miss Harmon’s 
small school, and her sisters were so much younger 
than herself that their interests were on a different 
plane to her own. Garnet, with her merry brown 
eyes, eager and enthusiastic nature, and amusing 
tongue, seemed a revelation. 

The two girls spent every available moment to- 
gether, and soon waxed confidential on the subject 
of their home affairs. 

“We’re all named after precious stones,” said 
Garnet. “Pearl, my eldest sister, is classics mistress 
at a school; Jacinthe is studying for a health visitor. 
Ruby is at a Horticultural College, and Beryl is 
secretary at a Settlement. Aren’t there a lot of us? 
All girls too, and not a single brother. I’m the baby 
of the family ! I’d like to go to Holloway, if I can 
get a scholarship, but that remains to be seen. Mean- 
while two years at the High’s not so bad, is it? I 
expect I’m going to enjoy it. Aren’t you ?” 

“Yes — perhaps. If the rest of the form were 
nicer, I might.” 

“Oh, they’ll come round! We can’t expect them 
to take us to their bosoms straight off! We’re 
goods on approval.” 

“We’ve as much right here as they have !” grunted 
Winona. 

“But they were here first, and of course that al- 
ways counts for something. We shall have to show 
that we’re worth our salt before we get any foot- 
ing in the form. The question is how best to do 
it.” 


38 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Winona shook her head. It was beyond her com- 
prehension. 

“I had a few tips from Jacinthe,” ruminated 
Garnet. “She was Captain the last year she was at 
school, so she ought to know. You see, we’ve to 
steer between Scylla and Charybdis. We mustn’t 
push ourselves forward too violently, or they’ll call us 
cheeky, but on the other hand, if we’re content to 
take a back seat, we may stay there for the rest of the 
term. Comprenez vous? It’s a matter of seizing 
one’s chance. I’ve an idea floating about in my mind. 
Do you happen to be anything extra special at sing- 
ing, or reciting, or acting?” 

“I haven’t had much practice at acting, but I can 
play the guitar. Mummie taught me. She lived 
in Spain for three years when she was a girl, and 
learnt there.” 

“The very thing! How perfectly splendid! I 
play the mandoline myself, and the two go so well 
together. Did you bring your guitar with you?” 

“No. I didn’t think I should have any time for it.” 

“But you could write for it, couldn’t you?” 

“Oh, yes ! Mummie would send it to me.” 

“Well, this is my idea. You know next week 
there’s to be a big general meeting of the whole 
school to choose a Games Captain. So far the games 
department here is rather in its infancy. I’ve been 
making enquiries, and there isn’t such a thing as a 
form trophy. There certainly ought to be, to spur on 
enthusiasm. I’m going to pluck up my courage, 
tackle one or two members of the Sixth, and suggest 
that after the meeting we hold a sing-song, and take 


Seaton High School 39 

a collection to provide a form trophy. I don’t believe 
anybody’s ever thought of it.” 

“Ripping! But what exactly is a sing-song?” 

“Oh, just an informal concert. I thought if you 
and I played the mandoline and guitar together, it 
would make a good item. I see two of the prefects 
coming along over there, I believe I’ll go and ask 
them.” 

“I admire your courage I” 

Garnet returned in a few minutes, tolerably well 
satisfied with her mission. 

“I believe the idea will catch on,” she announced. 
“Of course I couldn’t expect them to say ‘yes’ im- 
mediately. They were very cautious, and said they 
would put it to the form. I’ve sown the seed at any 
rate, and we must wait for developments.” 

Apparently Garnet’s proposition proved accept- 
able to the Sixth, for the very next day a notice was 
pinned on the board in the hall : 

“There will be a General Meeting of the 
School on Tuesday, October 4th, at 3 p.m., for 
the purpose of electing a Games Captain. 

“The meeting will be followed by a Sym- 
posium, when a collection will be taken, the 
proceeds of which will be devoted to the pur- 
chase of a form trophy. 

“Performers kindly submit their names with- 
out delay to M. HOWELL, as the program is 
being made up.” 

Garnet was one of the first to read the notice, and 


40 The Luckiest Girl in School 

she started off at once to the Sixth Form room. She 
sought out Winona on her return. 

“So my little scheme’s come off I” she beamed. 
“You bet the Sixth will take all the credit for evolv- 
ing it, but I don’t care I I’ve put our names dowa 
for a mandoline and guitar duet, and said we’d be 
ready to help with any accompaniments they like. 
Meg Howell just jumped at that. It seems Patricia 
Marshall and Clarice Nixon are going to sing a 
Christy Minstrel song, and she thought our instru- 
ments would add to the effect no end. I tell you we 
shall score. Did you write for your guitar?” 

“Yes, I expect it will be sent off to-day.” 

“Then we must begin and practice. I’ve got a top- 
ping duet that’s quite easy. Can you come home 
with me after school to-morrow for half an hour or 
so ? I know my cousins will be glad to see you. Then 
we might try over one or two things, and see how 
they go.” 

“It will be all right if I tell Aunt Harriet I shall 
be late,” agreed Winona. 

The instrument arrived the same evening, so she 
was able to keep her promise to Garnet next day. 
Fortunately they had only one class that afternoon, 
and were able to leave school at half-past three. 
Garnet’s cousins lived within a short tram-car ride. 
They were musical people, and sympathized with her 
project. Garnet led Winona into the drawing-room, 
and began without waste of time. 

“Let me look at your guitar I Oh, what a beauty I 
What’s the label inside? Juan Da Costa, Seville! 
Then it must be Spanish. I suppose they’re the best. 


41 


Seaton High School 

My mandoline’s Italian; it was made in Milan. We 
must tune them together, mustn’t we? Can you 
read well? This is the book of duets. I thought 
this Barcarolle would be easy, it has such a lovely 
swing about it. Here’s the guitar part.” 


CHAPTER IV 

The Symposium 

By the aid of diligent practicing in private, and 
several rehearsals at Garnet’s house, the girls at last 
got their duet to run smoothly. Garnet was frankly 
pleased. 

“The two Instruments go so nicely together! A 
mandoline’s ever so much better played with a guitar 
accompaniment than with the piano. I say, suppose 
we were to get an encore!” 

“I don’t suppose anything of the sort.” 

“Don’t be too modest. It’s as well to be pre- 
pared.” 

“I’m not going to practice anything more, so I 
warn you.” 

“Well, take something you know, from your own 
book. This song, I could play the air very softly 
on the mandoline, and we’d both sing it. That 
won’t give you any extra trouble.” 

“It isn’t the trouble so much as the state of my 
fingers. They’re getting sore. If I let a blister 
come, I shan’t be able to play at all.” 

“Then for goodness’ sake don’t play any more to- 
day, and soak your fingers in alum when you get 
home.” 

The general meeting on Tuesday was a very im- 
portant event, for it marked the opening of the 

42 


The Symposium 43 

winter session of games and guilds. During the 
first week or ten days of the autumn term the girls 
had enough to do In settling into the work of their 
new forms, but now October was come everybody 
began to think about hockey, and to consider the 
advisability of beginning rehearsals for various 
Christmas performances. 

“I always hate the end of September,” proclaimed 
Grace Olllver. “It’s so fine, and the geraniums are 
still so fresh in the park, that you’re deceived Into 
thinking It’s still summer, yet when you try to play 
tennis, you find the courts horrible, and you cut up 
the grass In half an hour. I’m glad when the leaves 
all come off, and you know it’s autumn, and you look 
up your hockey jersey, and think what sport you had 
last winter over ‘The Dramatic.’ I’m fond enough 
of cricket, but I’d really rather have winter than 
summer. On the whole, there’s more going on.” 

“I’m glad Margaret Howell’s head of the school,” 
replied Evelyn Richards. “She’s Ai at all the guilds, 
though I don’t think she’s much chance of being 
elected Games Captain.” 

“All the better. It’s quite enough for Margaret 
to act head. She’s good enough at that, I admit. 
Makes an ideal president. But a girl who’s literary 
isn’t generally sporty as well. It stands to reason 
she can’t do both properly.” 

“Meg doesn’t want to be Games Captain; It’s not 
In her line,” volunteered Beatrice, Margaret’s 
younger sister. “She told me to tell you all to vote 
for Kirsty Paterson.” 

“Kirsty’s topping!” 


44 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“What’s this Symposium we’re to have after the 
meeting?” asked Grace. 

“Why, I don’t exactly know,” laughed Evelyn. 
“I looked ‘symposium’ up in the dictionary, and it 
said: ‘literally a drinking together; a merry feast; 
a convivial party.’ I don’t know what we’re going 
to drink, unless we bring lemon kali and pass it 
round, like they used to do the loving cup in the 
Middle Ages!” 

“I suppose it’ll be just a kind of concert. But how 
about the collection? What are we supposed to 
give ?” 

“Anything you like, from a penny upwards,” re- 
plied Beatrice. “Meg calculated that two hundred 
and six pennies would be seventeen and twopence, and 
some girls will probably give more, so she thinks 
we’re sure of a sovereign, and that ought to buy a 
decent trophy, something to begin upon, at any rate. 
One must make a start.” 

“Right you are I A penny won’t break the banks 
of even the First Form babes, and millionaires can 
give their half-crowns, if they’re so disposed!” 

Punctually at 3 p.m. on the following Tuesday, 
the whole school assembled in the gymnasium. No 
mistress was present, for on occasions such as this 
Miss Bishop believed In self-government. She could 
trust her head girl and prefects, and had armed them 
with full authority. Winona anticipated the meeting 
with excitement and curiosity. It was altogether 
outside her experience. She had never In her life 
attended such a function. Garnet, whose elder 
sisters had been at large schools, had sketched an 


The Symposium 45 

outline of what was likely to take place, but even 
Garnet’s information was second-hand. Though she 
had now been exactly a fortnight at Seaton, Winona 
still felt more or less of a new-comer. She had hardly 
spoken to any one outside her own form, and knew 
the names of comparatively few of her two hundred 
and five schoolfellows. Without Garnet she would 
have been quite at a loss how to steer her course in 
this great ocean of school life; she thankfully ac- 
cepted her friend as pilot, and for the present was 
content to follow her lead. The two girls presented 
themselves in the gymnasium in good time, and took 
their seats among the other members of V.A. The 
front bench was occupied by a row of ten-year-olds 
who had come up this term from the Preparatory, 
and who sat squeezing each others’ arms, highly 
impressed with the importance of their remove. 
Behind them Form II., a giggling crew rather more 
au fait with the ways of the school, effervesced oc- 
casionally into excited squeals, and were instantly 
suppressed by a prefect. The Third and Fourth, 
which comprised the bulk of the girls from twelve to 
fifteen, occupied the middle of the hall, a lively, self- 
confident and rather obstreperous set, all at that 
awkward age which is anxious to claim privileges, but 
not particularly ready to submit to the authorized 
code. Every one of them was talking at the extreme 
pitch of her voice, and the noise was considerable. 
Patricia Marshall and Clarice Nixon looked at each 
other and frowned ominously, but as the hands of 
the big clock pointed almost to three, they judged 
it better not to interfere, and the din continued. 


46 The Luckiest Girl in School 

At the stroke of the hour, Margaret Howell 
strode on to the platform. She was a tall, fine- 
looking girl of seventeen, with bright hazel eyes, 
regular features, and a thick brown plait that fell 
below her waist. Her ready powers of speech, clear 
ringing voice, brisk decisive tone, and a certain per- 
sonal magnetism showed her to be that rara avis, a 
born leader. It was fortunate indeed for the school 
that its headship this year should have fallen to 
Margaret. The need for a firm but judicious hand 
on the reins was great. During the two previous 
years of the school’s existence the self-government 
had been in a state of evolution. For the first year, 
when everybody was new together, comparatively 
little could be done. The school must find itself 
before it began to form its private code of laws. In 
the second year ill-luck had raised to the post of 
honor Ivy Chatterton, a clever but most untactful 
girl, whose quick temper had brought her into con- 
stant collision with her prefects. Many were the 
squalls which had swept over the school, of so serious 
a nature sometimes as almost to wreck several of 
the guilds. The younger girls, following the example 
of their elders, had quarreled hotly, and indulged in 
an incredible amount of petty spite, and altogether 
the current tone had been anything but desirable. 
Miss Bishop, who had seen, to her sorrow, this 
downward trend, had welcomed the advent of Mar- 
garet, believing her to have the ability to cope with 
difficult situations, and at the same time to have the 
grit and self-control not to allow her head to be 
turned by her elevation to office. 


The Symposium 47 

“You will have a great responsibility: I am giving 
you unusual power, and I trust that you will make 
the highest use of it,” she had said to the girl, during 
a certain quiet ten minutes’ talk in her study, and 
Margaret had held herself very straight, and had 
answered: “I’ll do my level best. Miss Bishop!” 

All eyes were now fixed on the head girl as she 
stood in the center of the platform, ringing the bell 
for silence. The clamor subsided as if by magic, 
and in the midst of a dead hush she began her speech. 

“Girls! We’ve been back now for a whole fort- 
night — time for most of us to shake down into our 
places, isn’t it? The school year’s fairly started, 
and we’ve met together this afternoon to talk about 
a number of things that are of very great importance 
to us all. You all know that a school — to be worth 
anything — has two sides. There’s the inside part, 
with classes and prep, and exams. — ^what’s generally 
called the ‘curriculum’ — that’s managed by the 
mistresses. And there’s the outside part, the games 
and sports and concerts and guilds — that’s run by the 
girls themselves. Now I think, if we arrange well, 
we ought to be able to look forward to three very 
jolly terms. Everything depends upon making a 
good start. I’ve been getting to know how they 
manage in several other big schools, and I propose 
that we frame our code by theirs. What we want 
first of all is a feeling of unity and public spirit. Each 
girl must make up her mind to do all she can to push 
on the ‘Seaton High.’ We want to win matches, 
and have a good sports record, and generally build 
up a reputation. Slacking at games must be out of 


48 The Luckiest Girl in School 

the question. Everybody must buck up all round. 
Those who aren’t playing themselves can show their 
interest by attending the matches. It makes the 
greatest difference to an eleven to know that their 
own side is watching their play, and ready to cheer 
them on. There’s nothing so forlorn and depressing 
as to see whole rows of the enemy’s school hats on 
the spectators’ benches, and only half-a-dozen of 
one’s own — yet that’s what happened when we played 
Harbury last spring. No wonder we lost! I’m 
going to ask you presently to elect a Games Captain, 
and then I want you to support her loyally for the 
whole of the year. Let her feel that she can depend 
upon you, and that instead of getting together 
scratch teams, her difficulty will be how to choose 
among so many crack players. But as you know, 
games are not the whole of our business to-day. 
We have our guilds to consider as well. I want to 
put these upon a good and firm basis. Last winter 
we didn’t quite know where we were with them, did 
we? At present we have ‘The Dramatic Society,’ 
‘The Debating Club,’ ‘The Literary Association,’ and 
‘The Patriotic Knitting Guild.’ We might very well 
add a ‘Photographic Union’ and a ‘Natural History 
League.’ They ought all to be run on the same lines. 
Each must have a President, a Secretary, and a Com- 
mittee of eight members, who will undertake the 
business of the Society, and settle all its events. Any 
difficulty or dispute must be referred to the Prefects’ 
meeting, the decision of which shall be final. Each 
guild must draw up a list of its own rules ; these must 
be submitted first to the Prefects, then, if passed as 


The Symposium 49 

satisfactory, they must be written in the minutes 
book, and strictly adhered to. I want you all to 
realize that this school Is still in Its infancy. It’s a 
baby of only two years ! But a very promising baby I 
It’s we who are going to make Its history. So far 
we can’t say it has had any annals; In the future it 
must show a whole splendid list of achievements and 
successes. Years afterwards, when it’s the most 
famous school In the county, we shall be proud to 
have had the privilege of taking our share In pushing 
it on, and our names may be handed down to long 
generations of girls as those who founded Its best 
traditions.” 

Margaret paused, quite out of breath with her 
long speech. A storm of applause rose from the 
audience; the girls clapped and stamped, a few even 
cheered. Margaret had touched the right string. 
The idea of making school history appealed to them, 
and they were ready to respond with enthusiasm to 
her appeal. Even the ten-year-olds were eager to 
show their zeal. Winona had never taken her eyes off 
the speaker. It was a new gospel to her that she was 
one of the great community, bound to help the com- 
mon weal. The realization of It stirred her spirit; 
her imagination danced ahead, and performed pro- 
digies. Suppose she could do something wonderful 
for the school, and leave her name as a memory to 
others? The vision gleamed golden. It would be 
worth living to accomplish that. 

“Not half a bad speech!” murmured Garnet ap- 
provingly by her side. 

Winona started, and came back from the clouds. 


50 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

“I think it’s — ^just immense!” she answered with 
a long sigh of admiration. 

Margaret was again ringing the bell for silence. 

“I’m glad to find you all agree with me,” she 
announced. “Now I want us to get solidly to busi- 
ness, and elect a Games Captain. You remember 
I asked each to nominate a candidate, and I find 
that more than two-thirds have handed in the same 
name — that of Kirsty Paterson. I therefore put 
Kirsty up for election. It’s only fair that I should 
first go over her qualifications for the office. She was 
our best center forward last year at hockey, and our 
best bowler at cricket. She’s a thoroughly steady 
and reliable player herself, and — this is most im- 
portant — she’s able to train others. You know from 
experience that she’s fair and just, and she’s tremen- 
dously keen. I feel sure that in her hands the games 
would prosper, and we’d soon show some improve- 
ment. Will all those in favor of electing Kirsty 
kindly stand up?” 

There was such a general rising among the girls 
that most presidents would have considered the 
matter settled. Margaret, however, liked to do 
things strictly in order. 

“Thanks 1 Will you please sit down again. Now 
those against the election kindly stand.” 

A certain section in the school had Intended to 
vote against Kirsty, but when they saw themselves 
so enormously outnumbered, they changed their 
minds. To belong to a minority often means to be 
unpopular, and it is wise to go with the stream. After 
all, Kirsty was a thoroughly eligible and desirable 


The Symposium 51 

candidate. So though a few neighbors elbowed each 
other, nobody rose. 

Margaret waited a moment. 

“Do I understand that you’re all in favor? Then 
the motion is carried unanimously. I’m very glad, 
for I think Kirsty will make an ideal captain. Let’s 
give three cheers for her. Are you ready ? Hip-hip- 
hip hooray !” 

The girls responded with full lung power. Some 
even began to sing: “For she’s a jolly good fellow I” 
and there was a general outcry of “Speech ! Speech !” 
The blushing Kirsty — a bonny, rosy, athletic looking 
lassie — was seized by her fellow prefects, and 
dragged, in spite of her protests, to the front of the 
platform. Kirsty had been born north of the Tweed, 
and in moments of excitement her pretty Scottish 
burr asserted itself. 

“It’s verra kind of you to elect me,” she began. 
“I’m afraid I’m no hand at making speeches. I 
preferr deeds to worrds. We’ll all put ourr 
shoulderrs to the wheel, and win forr the school, 
won’t we? I hope we’ll have a splendid yearr!” 

At that she retired amidst rapturous applause. 
Margaret again rang the bell for silence, and pro- 
ceeded with the business of the meeting, which was 
to elect the officers for the various societies and 
guilds. This being satisfactorily settled, she turned 
to affairs of lighter moment. 

“I’m sure you’ll all agree that it is very desirable 
for us to have a form trophy, for hockey, at any rate. 
Perhaps by next summer we’ll get one for cricket as 
well. It will spur us on to have a little wholesome 


52 The Luckiest Girl in School 

competition amongst ourselves., As I announced 
on the notice board, we are now going to give a short 
entertainment, at the close of which a collection will 
be taken for the object I have just mentioned. I 
hate begging, so give what you like, but of course it 
depends on your generosity this afternoon what kind 
of a trophy we are able to buy. The first item on 
our program is a piano solo by Hester King.” 

Hester was one of the best music pupils in the 
school. She had a good crisp touch and considerable 
execution, and led off the concert with a sprightly 
tarantella. A violin solo followed, by Sibyl Lee, 
a member of V.B., who was rather nervous, but 
acquitted herself fairly well on the whole. 

“I thought I’d break down,” she confided to her 
friends. “The sight of all those eyes staring at me 
quite put me off. I don’t wonder blind musicians are 
generally successes, they can’t see the audience. Well, 
never mind. I’ve done my bit, at any rate !” 

The next on the list was a song from Annie Hardy. 
She had chosen “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” 
and rendered it with great effect, the whole room 
joining with enthusiasm in the chorus. It took so 
well that there were shouts of “Encore !” and Annie 
came back smiling to give “Khaki Boys,” which 
roused her audience to an even higher pitch of pat- 
riotic fervor. A recitation, “Our Hockey Match,” 
by Agnes Heath, was felt to be particularly appro- 
priate to the occasion. It was a very good “school 
piece,” humorous as well as exciting, and Agnes had 
enough dramatic ability to do justice to it. Her own 
form in particular stamped lustily. The prefects 


53 


The Symposium 

motioned her forward again, but she shook her head. 
The clapping redoubled. Agnes, escorted to the 
front by Margaret, bowed and announced: 

“Fearfully sorry not to oblige, but this is abso- 
lutely the only thing I know, and it’s too long to say 
all over again!” 

There was a general laugh, and the audience 
settled itself to enjoy the next item on the pro- 
gram. Margaret was signaling to Winona and 
Garnet, and the pair slipped from their places, and 
made their way to the platform. 

“I’m all upset! I hope I shan’t break down!” 
whispered Winona. 

“Nonsense! A duet’s not so bad as a solo. You’ll 
get on all right. Do for goodness’ sake brace up !” 
implored Garnet. “If you muddle your accom- 
paniment you’ll spoil my part. You’ll surely never 
go and fail me !” 

The instruments had been put under the piano. 
Patricia Marshall handed them forth, and sounded 
the notes for them to be tuned. Clarice Nixon was 
placing chairs and music-stands. Garnet was toler- 
ably composed, but Winona was suffering from a 
bad attack of that most unpleasant malady “stage 
fright.” She would have given worlds for a trap- 
door in the platform to open, and allow her to sub- 
side out of sight. No such convenient arrangement, 
however, had been provided for the use of bashful 
performers, the planks were solid, and guaranteed 
not to give way under any circumstances. There was 
nothing for it but to take her seat in full view of the 
audience. There were slightly over two hundred 


54 The Luckiest Girl in School 

girls in the room, but to Winona’s fevered imagin- 
ation there appeared to be thousands. She wondered 
how she could ever have had the folly to place her- 
self in such a public situation. Garnet was sounding 
a few notes and looking at her to begin. For one 
dreadful moment the room whirled. Perhaps Mar- 
garet saw and understood; she laid her hand on 
Winona’s shaking arm, and whispered encourag- 
ingly : 

“Go on! Don’t mind the audience. Just re- 
member that you’re playing for the form trophy!” 

A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over Winona. 
All the school patriotism aroused within her by 
Margaret’s speech surged up to meet the crisis. She 
was no longer an isolated atom, a girl fresh from 
home, and on trial before the critical eyes of her new 
form, but a unit in the great life of the school, bound 
to play her part for the good of the whole, and 
specially pledged not to fail Garnet in this emer- 
gency. Self faded in the larger vision. The color 
flooded back into her face. She made a desperate 
effort, and struck the opening chords. 

As her friend had reminded her, a duet was quite 
a different matter from a solo. Directly the man- 
doline part began, her confidence returned. She tried 
to think that she was only playing an accompaniment 
for Garnet. The piece was not difficult, it was in 
D, quite the easiest key for the guitar, with very 
few accidentals or high positions. She took cour- 
age, and struck her strings crisply, so that the tone 
rang out well. Her instrument was a good one, 
very true and mellow, and her mother had taught 


The Symposium 55 

her the liquid Spanish touch which showed it to Its 
best advantage. Garnet also was doing her best. 
Her plectrum vibrated evenly and rapidly, and the 
metallic twang, her gravest fault, was not nearly 
so evident as usual. The audience, unfamiliar with 
these particular Instruments, was not hypercritical, 
and so long as the players kept well together, and 
sounded no discords, their skill was judged to be 
excellent. The Barcarolle had an attractive swing 
about it, and a romantic suggestion of gondolas and 
lapping water and moonlight serenades. As the 
last notes of the air on the mandoline died away, 
Winona swept her thumb over the strings of her 
guitar in a tremendous final chord. It had quite a 
magnificent and professional effect. There was no 
mistake about the applause; it was simply clam- 
orous. 

“Stand up and bow!” whispered Margaret, 
nudging the unaccustomed performers. “That’s 
right! Bow again! It’s most clearly an encore. 
Have you brought anything else with you? Good 
biz! Don’t waste any more time, then. We’re 
rather late.” 

The song that Winona had chosen was a bright 
little Irish ditty, with a catchy tune and lively ac- 
companiment. Garnet played the air softly on the 
mandoline, and the two girls sang in unison, keep- 
ing strictly together, and pronouncing very plainly, 
so that the point of the amusing words should not 
be lost. The audience shrieked with laughter, and 
would have demanded a further encore, had not 
Margaret pointed to the clock, and shaken her head 


56 The Luckiest Girl in School 

firmly. There were other items on the program, 
and time was going all too fast. 

Another violin solo, a recitation and a Highland 
fling followed; then the concert wound up with a 
Christy Minstrel song from several members of 
the Sixth. This last was the triumph of the after- 
noon. Patricia prided herself on her preparations. 
She had placed a newspaper inside the grand piano 
over the strings, and when the hammers struck 
against it the effect of the accompaniment was ex- 
actly that of a banjo. She had borrowed two sets 
of castanets, a pair of cymbals, and a triangle, and 
with these loud-sounding Instruments she and her 
companions emphasized the chorus. Garnet and 
Winona helped with mandoline and guitar, so the 
general result was quite orchestral. During the per- 
formance of this chef-d’oeuvre some of the prefects 
went round with collecting bags, which were passed 
along the benches. 

“Come, my dark-eyed honey, 

And help to spend my money,” 

chanted the minstrels lustily, and the audience smiled 
at the appropriateness of the words. 

It was felt that the Symposium had been an enor- 
mous success. The girls were quite loath to leave, 
and dispersed slowly from the gymnasium. Many 
eyes were turned on Winona and Garnet as they 
carried their instruments down from the platform. 
“Who are they?” every one was asking, for so far 
their names were not known outside their own 
form. “The two County Scholarship holders,” 


The Symposium 57 

somebody replied, and the information was passed 
on. 

Next morning, Margaret proudly posted up the 
result of the collection, which amounted to £2 135. 
7^. — a very substantial sum In the estimation of the 
school. 

“It ought to be sufficient to buy a cup !” she tri- 
umphed. “Miss Bishop has promised to send for 
some catalogues, so that we can look up the prices. 
We shall start the season well, at any rate. Kirsty’s 
almost ready to stand on her head! I never saw 
any one so elated!” 

“Except yourself!” smiled Patricia. 

“Cela va sans dire, camarade!” 

Garnet and Winona, walking down the High 
Street together after the performance, also com- 
pared notes. 

“It was fine! I do admire Margaret. Mustn’t 
it be splendid to be head of the school?” sighed 
Garnet enviously. 

“Do you think so? Yes, I suppose It is, but if I 
had my choice. I’d a dozen times over rather be 
Games Captain,” answered Winona. 


CHAPTER V 

Aunt Harriet 

It is high time now that we paused to consider 
a very important person indeed in this story, namely 
Miss Harriet Beach, but for whose invitation Wi- 
nona would never have attended Seaton High School 
at all. Aunt Harriet was what is generally known 
as “a character,” that is to say, she was possessed 
of a strong personality, and was decidedly eccentric. 
Though her age verged on sixty she preserved the 
energy of her thirties, and prided herself upon her 
physical fitness. She was tall, with a high color, 
keen brown eyes, a large nose, a determined mouth, 
and iron gray hair. In her youth she must have 
been handsome, and even now her erect figure and 
dark, well-marked eyebrows gave her a certain air 
of distinction. She was a most thoroughly capable 
woman, reliable, and strongly philanthropic: not in 
a sentimental way, however; she disapproved of 
indiscriminate almsgiving, and would have consid- 
ered it a crime to bestow a penny on a beggar with- 
out making a proper Investigation of his case. She 
was a tower of strength to most of the charitable 
institutions In the city, a terror to the professional 
pauper, but a real friend to the deserving. Her 
time was much occupied with committees, secretarial 
duties, district visiting, workhouse inspection and 

S8 


Aunt Harriet 59 

other public interests. She was apt indeed to have 
more than her share of civic business; her reputation 
for absolute reliability caused people to get into the 
habit of saying “Oh, go to Miss Beach!” on every 
occasion, and as she invariably proved the willing 
horse, she justified the proverb and received the 
work in increased proportions. 

Like most people. Aunt Harriet had her faults. 
She was apt to be a trifle overbearing and domineer- 
ing, she lacked patience with others’ weaknesses, and 
was too doctrinaire in her views. She tried very 
hard to push the world along, but she forgot some- 
times that “the mills of God grind slowly,” and 
that it is only after much waiting and many days 
that the bread cast upon the waters returns to us. 
She prided herself on her candor and lack of “hum- 
bug.” Unfortunately, people who “speak their 
minds” generally treat their hearers to a sample 
of their worst instead of their best, and their ex- 
cessive truthfulness scarcely meets with the grati- 
tude they consider it deserves. Miss Beach’s many 
estimable qualities, however, overbalanced her crudi- 
ties, her friends shrugged their shoulders and told 
each other it was “her way,” “her heart was all 
right.” Though she might give offense, people for- 
got it, and came to her again next time they wanted 
anything done, and the universal verdict was that 
she was “trying at times,” but on the whole one 
of the most useful citizens which Seaton possessed. 

If there was one person more than another who 
wore out Miss Beach’s patience it was her niece 
and goddaughter, Mrs. Woodward. She had a sin- 


6o The Luckiest Girl in School 

cere affection for her, but their two personalities 
were at absolutely opposite poles. She admitted 
that Florita was amiable, well-meaning, and thor- 
oughly affectionate, but for the rest she considered 
her weak, foolishly helpless, liable to extravagance, 
a poor housekeeper, and a perfect jelly-fish in her 
methods of bringing up her family. In vain did 
Aunt Harriet, on successive visits, preach firmness, 
order, consistency and other maternal virtues; her 
niece would brace herself up to a temporary effort, 
but would relax again directly her guest had de- 
parted, and the children — little rogues ! — discov- 
ered at a remarkably early age that they could do 
pretty much as they liked. The Woodwards al- 
ways dreaded the advent of Aunt Harriet, her dis- 
approval of their general conduct was so manifest. 
By dint of urging from their mother they made 
extra attempts at good behavior before the august 
visitor, but they were subject to awful relapses. 
Mrs. Woodward, on her side, considered she had 
her trials, for her aunt had a habit of arriving sud- 
denly, giving only a few hours’ notice by telegram, 
and she could not forbear the suspicion that her 
revered godparent wished to surprise her housekeep- 
ing and catch her unprepared. On one occasion, 
Indeed, when the family came down — rather late — 
for breakfast. Aunt Harriet was discovered sitting 
on the rustic seat outside the dining-room window. 
She explained that she had taken the 5 a.m. work- 
men’s train and had come to spend a long day with 
them, but not wishing to disturb the house at too 
early an hour she had remained in the garden 


en- 


Aunt Harriet 6i 

joying the view until somebody arrived downstairs. 
In spite of her rather angular attitude, Miss Beach 
was a very kind and generous friend to her widowed 
niece, and she was the one person in the world to 
whom Mrs. Woodward naturally thought of turn- 
ing in time of trouble. Aunt Harriet’s advice might 
not always be palatable, but it was combined with 
such practical help that there seemed no alternative 
but to follow it. 

Miss Beach, though not a rich woman, was pos- 
sessed of very comfortable private means. She 
lived in an old-fashioned house just opposite the 
Abbey, and her windows looked out on a view of 
towers and cloisters and tall lime trees, with a fore- 
ground of monuments. To some people the array 
of tombstones would have proved a dismal prospect, 
but she declared it never distressed her in the least. 
She prided herself greatly on the fact that she had 
been born in the house where her father, grandfather 
and great-grandfather had also come into the world 
and spent their lives. Except for an occasional ex- 
pedition to Highfield, she rarely left home. All her 
interests were in Seaton, and she became miser- 
able directly if she were away from her native 
city. 

The little Woodwards had never regarded it as 
much of a treat to go and stay at lo, Abbey Close. 
The restraint which the visit necessitated quite neu- 
tralized the afternoon at the cinema with which their 
aunt invariably entertained them. The fine old Chip- 
pendale furniture had to be treated with a respect 
not meted out to the chairs and tables at home. 


62 The Luckiest Girl in School 

boots must be scrupulously wiped on the door-mat, 
bedrooms left tidy, and books and ornaments were 
to be held altogether sacred from the ravages of pry- 
ing young lingers. 

Winona had taken up her residence there with 
somewhat the feeling of a novice entering a nun- 
nery. She was not quite sure how she and Aunt 
Harriet were going to get on. To her great relief, 
however, things turned out better than she expected. 
Miss Beach received her with unusual complacency, 
and the two settled down quite harmoniously to- 
gether. The fact was that Winona, a visitor with 
nothing to do, and Winona a busy High School girl, 
were utterly different persons. It is one thing to 
wander round somebody else’s house and feel bored, 
and quite another to hang up your hat, realize you 
are part and parcel of the establishment, and occupy 
yourself with your own business. Once she had 
fallen into the swing of work at school Winona be- 
gan to appreciate the orderliness of her aunt’s ar- 
rangements. It had never seemed to matter at home 
if the breakfast were late and she arrived at Miss 
Harmon’s when the clock had struck nine, but at 
“The High” it was an affair of vital importance 
to be in her seat before call-over, and she daily 
blessed the punctuality of Aunt Harriet’s cook. It 
was also a great boon to be able to prepare her les- 
sons in quiet. Her family had never realized the 
necessity of silence during study hours, and she had 
been used to learn French vocabularies or translate 
her Latin exercises to a distracting accompaniment 
of Ernie’s trumpet, Dorrie’s and Mamie’s quarrels. 


Aunt Harriet 63 

Godfrey’s mouth organ, and Letty’s strumming 
upon the piano. 

“It would have been utterly impossible to do my 
prep, at home!’’ she thought sometimes. “I’d no 
idea what work was like before I came to Seaton 
‘High’ I It would do those youngsters good to have 
a drilling! I wish they could have been in the 
Preparatory. No, I don’t! Because then I should 
have had them here, and it would have been good-by 
to all peace. On the whole things are much better 
as they are.” 

Miss Beach was so extremely busy with her own 
multifarious occupations that she had not time to see 
very much of her great-niece. She made every 
arrangement for her comfort, however, and caused 
the piano to be moved into the dining-room for the 
convenience of her practicing. She had always had 
a tender spot for Winona, whom she regarded as 
the one hopeful character in a family of noodles. 
She talked to her at meal times about a variety of 
subjects, some of them within her intelligence, but 
others completely — so far — above her head. She 
even tried to draw her out upon school matters. 
This, however, was a dead failure. Winona, most 
unfortunately, could not overcome her awe for her 
aunt, and refused to expand. To all the questions 
about her Form, her companions, teachers, lessons 
or new experiences, she replied in monosyllables. 
It was a sad pity, for Miss Beach had really hoped 
to win the girl’s confidence and prove a temporary 
mother to her, but finding her advances repulsed 
she also shrank back into her shell, and the intimacy 


64 The Luckiest Girl in School 

which might have existed between them was post- 
poned to future years. Young folks often fail to 
realize what an interest their doings may have to 
grown-up people, and how their bright fresh out- 
look on life may come as a tonic to older and wearier 
minds. It never struck Winona to try to amuse or 
entertain her aunt. At her present crude stage of 
development she was incapable of appreciating the 
subtle pathos that clings round elderly lives, and 
their wistful longing to be included in the experi- 
ences of the rising generation. Shyness and lack 
of perception held her silent, and the empty corner 
in Aunt Harriet’s heart went unfilled. 

Saturday and Sunday were the only days upon 
which Winona had time to feel homesick. Her 
mother had at first suggested her returning to High- 
field for the week ends, but Miss Beach had strongly 
vetoed the project on the justifiable ground that even 
the earliest train from Ashbourne on Monday 
mornings did not reach Seaton till 9.30, so that 
Winona would lose the first hour’s lesson of her 
school week. She might have added that she con- 
sidered such frequent home visits would prove highly 
unsettling and interfere greatly with her work, but 
for once she refrained from stating her frank opin- 
ion, probably deeming the other argument sufficient, 
and willing to spare Mrs. Woodward’s feelings. 

Letters from Highfield showed little change in 
the usual conduct of family affairs. The children 
were still attending Miss Harmon’s school, though 
they were to leave at Christmas. 

“We are late nearly every day now you 


are 


Aunt Harriet 65 

not here to make Ernie start,” wrote Mamie, almost 
as if it were an achievement to be proud of. “He 
locked the piano and threw the key in the garden, 
and we could none of us practice for three days. 
Wasn’t it lovely? Letty pours out tea if mother 
isn’t in, and yesterday she broke the teapot.” 

The chief items of news, however, concerned 
Percy. That young gentleman, with what Aunt 
Harriet considered his usual perversity, had sprained 
his ankle on the very day before he ought to have 
returned to school. He had been ordered to lie 
up on the sofa, but Winona gathered that the doc- 
tor’s directions had not been very strictly carried 
out. She strongly suspected that the patient did 
not wish to recover too quickly. Whether or not 
that had been the case, Percy was now convalescent, 
and was to set off for school on the following Fri- 
day. Longworth College was not a great distance, 
and as Percy would have to pass through Seaton on 
his way. Aunt Harriet invited him to break his jour- 
ney there and spend the night at her house. She 
had a poor opinion of the boy’s capacity, but having 
undertaken a half share in his education she felt 
an increased sense of responsibility towards him, 
and wished to find an opportunity of a word with 
him in private. 

Winona hailed her brother’s advent with immense 
joy. Even so flying a visit was better than nothing. 
Letters were an inadequate means of expression, 
and she was longing to pour out all her new ex- 
periences. She wanted to tell Percy about the Sym- 
posium, and her friendship for Garnet, and the 


66 The Luckiest Girl in School 

chemistry class, and the gymnasium practice, and to 
show him her hockey jersey which had just arrived. 
She had so long been the recipient of all his school 
news that it would be delightful to turn the tables 
and give him a chronicle of her own doings at the 
Seaton “High,” which in her opinion quite rivaled 
Longworth College. 

To the young people’s scarcely suppressed satis- 
faction, Miss Beach went out after tea to attend 
an important meeting, leaving her nephew and niece 
to spend the evening alone together. They had 
never expected such luck. As it was Friday Winona 
had no lessons to prepare for the next day, and could 
feel free for a delightful chat. She flung herself 
into Aunt Harriet’s special big easy chair by the 
fireside, and lounged luxuriously, while Percy, boy- 
like, prowled about the room. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re jogging along all right,” 
he remarked when his sister’s long account came 
to a pause. “Though please don’t for a moment 
compare your blessed old High School to Long- 
worth, for they’re not in the same running! Aunt 
Harriet hasn’t quite eaten you up yet, I see?” 

“She’s not such a Gorgon as I expected. In fact 
she’s been rather decent.” 

“The dragon’s sheathed her talons? Well, that’s 
good biz. You went off as tragic as Iphigenia, 
heroically declaring yourself the family sacrifice.” 

“Did I ?” Winona had almost forgotten her orig- 
inal attitude of martyr. Three weeks had made a 
vast difference to her feelings. 

“If you can peg it out in comfort with the dragon 


Aunt Harriet 67 

so much to the good. Shouldn’t care to live here 
myself though. It’s a dull hole. Number 10, Abbey 
Close wouldn’t be my choice of a residence.” 

‘‘Well, it’s not likely you’ll ever have the chance 
of living here !” retorted Winona, taking up the cud- 
gels for her adopted home. 

‘‘I don’t know about that,” returned Percy. 
“The house belongs to Aunt Harriet. She’ll have 
to leave her property to somebody, I suppose, when 
she shuffles off this mortal coil. I’m the eldest son, 
and my name’s Percy Beach Woodward. That 
ought to count for something.” 

“Aunt Harriet’s not going to die yet,” said Wi- 
nona gravely. “I think it’s horrid of you to talk 
like this!” 

“Oh, I don’t wish the old girl any harm, but one 
may have an eye to the future all the same,” was 
the airy response. “D’you remember Jack Cassidy 
who was a pupil at the Vicarage? His aunt left 
him five thousand pounds.” 

“Yes, and I heard he’s muddling it away as fast 
as he can. Mary James told me. Her father’s 
guardian of part of his property until he’s twenty- 
five, you know.” 

“He’s a topper, is Jack! He’s promised to take 
me for a day sometime to Hartleburn, when the 
races are on. Now don’t you go blabbing, or I’ll 
never tell you anything again!” 

“Mr. Joynson said ” 

“Oh, for goodness sake shut up ! A boy of six- 
teen isn’t going to be bear-led by an old fogey like 
Joynson. He has the mater far too much under 


68 The Luckiest Girl in School 

his finger and thumb for my taste. If you want 
to be chums with me, don’t preach!” 

Winona was silent. Her brother’s infatuation 
for the Vicar’s scapegrace ward was the affair of 
a year ago. She had hoped he had forgotten it. 
His escapades at the time, in company with his 
hero, had caused his mother to seek the advice and 
guidance of her trustee. 

“Some one was telling me the other day that old 
oak furniture is worth a tremendous lot of money 
now,” continued Percy, his eye roving round the 
room with an air almost of future proprietorship. 
“If that’s so these things of Aunt Harriet’s are a 
little gold mine. There was an account of a sale 
in the newspaper, with a picture of a cupboard that 
fetched two hundred pounds. It was first cousin to 
that!” nodding at a splendidly carved old piece 
which faced him. 

Miss Beach’s household goods were inherited 
from her great-grandfather, and included some fine 
specimens of oak, as well as rare Chippendale. 
Winona was too young to be a connoisseur of anti- 
quities, but she had the curiosity to rise from her 
chair and join Percy in his inspection of the artide 
in question. 

“I tell you they’re as alike as two peas!” he 
declared. “Same shape, same sort of carving, same 
knobs at the end ! The reason why I remember the 
thing is that the buyer found a secret drawer in it 
after he’d got it home, with some old rubbish inside, 
and there was a lawsuit as to who owned these. He 
claimed he’d bought the lot with the cupboard, but 


Aunt Harriet 69 

the judge made him turn them up to the family of 
the original owner. That was why there was a 
picture of the cupboard In the newspaper. It put 
an arrow showing the place of the secret drawer. 
I wonder if there’s one here, too? I’m going to 
have a try! By Jove, there is!” 

A vigorous pull had dislodged a drawer in a 
very unexpected situation. Winona would certainly 
never have thought of its existence, nor would Percy, 
if the newspaper had not given away the secret. 
He looked eagerly Inside. 

“No treasures hidden in here ! Absolutely noth- 
ing at all, except this piece of paper.” 

“Perhaps Aunt Harriet has never found it out,” 
ventured Winona. 

Percy did not answer Immediately. He was read- 
ing the writing on the paper. 

“You bet she has!” he cried at last, flushing 
angrily. “I never thought she’d much opinion of 
me, but I call this the limit! It’s going where it 
deserves !” and acting on a sudden impulse he flung 
the cause of offense Into the fire. 

For a moment Winona did not realize what he 
had done. By the time she reached the hearth the 
paper was already half consumed. She made a 
snatch at it with the tongs, but a flame sprang up 
and forestalled her. She had just time to read the 
words “last Will and Testament of me Har — ” be- 
fore the whole sank Into ashes. She turned to her 
brother with a white, scared face. 

“Percy! You’ve never burnt Aunt Harriet’s 
will?” 


70 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Ashamed already of his impetuous act the boy 
nevertheless tried to bluff the matter off. 

“It was an abominable shame! When I’m 
named Beach after her too! I wouldn’t have be- 
lieved it if I hadn’t read it myself!’’ he blustered. 

“Read what?’’ 

“I shan’t tell you! Look here, Win, you must 
promise on your honor that you’ll never breathe a 
word about this.’’ 

“Perhaps Aunt Harriet ought to know.’’ 

“She mustn’t know: mustrCt, I tell you! I say, 
Win, I’m not at all sure that what I’ve just done 
isn’t a chargeable offense — I believe they call it a 
felony. You wouldn’t like to see me put into prison, 
would you ? Then hold your tongue about it ! Give 
me your word! Can you keep a secret?’’ 

“I promise!’’ gasped Winona (Percy was squeez- 
ing her little finger nail in orthodox fashion and 
the agony was acute). “I promise faithfully.’’ 

She was in a terrible quandary. Her natural 
straightforwardness urged her to make a clean breast 
of the whole affair. Had she been the actual trans- 
gressor she would certainly have done so and faced 
the consequences. But this was Percy’s secret, not 
her own. He was no favorite with his aunt, and 
so outrageous an act would prejudice him fatally 
in her eyes. The hint about prison frightened 
Winona. She knew nothing of law, but she thought 
it highly probable that burning a will was a punish- 
able crime. Suppose Aunt Harriet’s rigid conscience 
obliged her to communicate with the police and de- 
liver Percy into the hands of justice. Such a hor- 







Aunt Harriet 71 

rible possibility must be avoided at all costs. The 
sound of a latch-key in the door made her start. 
In a panic she rushed to the old cupboard and pushed 
back the secret drawer into its place. When Miss 
Beach entered the dining-room her nephew and 
niece were sitting reading by the fireside. Their 
choice of literature might perhaps have astonished 
her, for Percy was poring over Sir Oliver Lodge’s 
“Man and the Universe,” while Winona’s nose was 
buried in Herbert Spencer’s “Sociology,” but if in- 
deed she noticed it, she perhaps set it down to a 
laudable desire to improve their minds, and placed 
the matter to their credit. Percy took his departure 
next morning, and Winona saw him off at the rail- 
way station. 

“Remember, you’ve to keep that business dark,” 
he reminded her. “Aunt Harriet must never find 
out. She’s been jawing me no end about responsi- 
bility, and looking after the kids and supporting the 
mater and all that. Rubbed it in hard, I can tell 
you I Great Juggins ! Do I look like the mainstay 
of a family?” 

As Winona watched his boyish face laughing at 
her from the window of the moving train she de- 
cided that he certainly did not. She sighed as she 
turned to leave the station. Life seemed suddenly 
to have assumed new perplexities. Percy’s act 
weighed heavily on her mind. It seemed such a 
base return for all Aunt Harriet was doing on their 
behalf. She longed to thank her for her kindness 
and say how much she appreciated going to the 
High School, but she could not find the words. The 


72 The Luckiest Girl in School 

knowledge of the secret raised an extra barrier be- 
tween herself and her aunt. So she sat at lunch 
time even shyer and more speechless than usual, 
and let the ball of conversation persistently drop. 

“Fretting for her brother, I suppose,” thought 
Miss Beach. “She can talk fast enough with friends 
of her own age. Well, I suppose an old body like 
myself mustn’t expect to be company for a girl of 
fifteen !” 

She was too proud to let the hurt feeling show 
itself on her face, however, and propping up the 
newspaper beside her plate, she plunged into the 
latest accounts from the Front. 


CHAPTER VI 

A Crisis 

Winona had been more than a month, nearly five 
weeks indeed, at the Seaton High School. In the 
first few days of her introduction to V.A. she had 
told herself that the difficulty of the work consisted 
largely in its newness, and that as soon as she grew 
accustomed to it she would sail along as swimmingly 
as Garnet Emerson, or Olave Parry, or Hilda Lang- 
ley, or Agatha James. Most unfortunately she 
found her theory acted in the opposite direction. 
Closer acquaintance with her Form subjects proved 
their extreme toughness. She was not nearly up 
to the standard of the rest of the girls. Her Latin 
grammar was shaky, her French only a trifle bet- 
ter, she had merely a nodding acquaintance with 
geometry, and had not before studied chemistry. 
Her teacher seemed to expect her to understand 
many things of which she had hitherto never heard, 
and was apparently astounded at her ignorance. 
Winona puzzled over her text-books during many 
hours of preparation, but she made little headway. 
The royal road to learning, which she had fondly 
hoped to tread, was proving itself a stony and 
twisting path. 

**You seem to get on all right?” she said wistfully 
to Garnet one day. 


73 


74 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“Why, yes. Of course one has to work,” ad- 
mitted her friend. “Miss Huntley keeps one up 
to the mark. But one must expect that in V.A. 
They don’t put scholarship holders in the Prepara- 
tory.” 

“I was all at sea in math, this morning.” 

“You were rather a duffer, certainly. The prob- 
lems weren’t as difficult as the ones they gave us 
in the entrance exam. If those didn’t floor you, why 
couldn’t you work these?” 

“But they did floor me. I barely managed half 
the paper. I reckoned I’d failed in it.” 

Garnet looked surprised. 

“Then your other subjects must have been ex- 
tremely good to make up for it. I was told that 
we should probably stand or fall by maths. You 
were ripping in everything else, I suppose? Scored 
no end?” 

Winona did not answer the question. She was 
conscious that none of her papers could have merited 
such an eulogium. She envied Garnet’s grasp of 
the form work. Try as she would, her own ex- 
ercises and translations were poor affairs, and her 
ill-trained memory found it difficult to marshal the 
enormous number of facts that were daily forced 
upon it. Miss Huntley at first was patient, but 
as the weeks wore on, and Winona still wallowed 
in a quagmire of amazing mistakes, she grew sar- 
castic. The girl winced under some of her cutting 
remarks. Apparently the mistress imagined her 
failure to be due to laziness and inattention, and 
sooner than confess that she could not understand 


A Crisis 75 

the work, Winona was silent. She never mentioned 
the long hours she spent poring over her books in 
Aunt Harriet’s dining-room. After all, it was bet- 
ter to be thought idle than stupid. But it was 
humiliating to feel that she was counted among 
the slackers of the Form, while Garnet was al- 
ready winning laurels. The contrast between 
the two scholarship holders could not fail to be 
noticed. 

Miss Huntley (privately known to the Form as 
“Bunty”) was a clever, but rather remorseless 
teacher. She had been on the staff since the open- 
ing of the school two years before, and she was 
determined at all costs to maintain the high standard 
inaugurated at its foundation. She was herself the 
product of High School education, and knew to the 
last scruple how much to require from girls in V.A. 
To those who appeared to be really trying their best 
she was ready to give intelligent help, but she had 
no mercy for slackers. She was possessed of a 
certain amount of dry humor, greatly appreciated 
by the form en hloc, though each quaked privately 
lest, through some unlucky slip, she might find her- 
self the object of the smart but withering satires. 
Despite her strictness, “Bunty” was popular. She 
was an admirable tennis player, and a formidable 
champion in a match “Mistresses v. Girls.” Her 
strong personality fascinated Winona, who would 
have done much to gain her approval. So far, 
however, she was entirely on Miss Huntley’s black 
list. 

Matters came to a crisis over a difficult bit of 


76 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Vergil. Latin was, next to mathematics, the most 
painfully wobbling of Winona’s shaky subjects. She 
had puzzled in vain over this particular piece of 
translation. The words, indeed, she had found in 
the dictionary, but she could not twist them into 
sense. 

“Old Vergil’s utterly stumped me to-day!” she 
mourned to Garnet, as they met In the dressing-room 
before nine o’clock. “If Bunty puts me to construe 
anywhere on page 21, I’m a gone coon. I’m feeling 
in a blue funk, I can tell you.” 

“Poor old bluebottle! Don’t wrinkle up your 
forehead like that — you’re making permanent lines! 
It’s a bad trick, and just spoils you.” 

“I can’t help it when I’m worried!” 

“Then don’t worry.” 

“Oh, it’s easy enough for you; you don’t have 
to receive the vials of Bunty’s scorn.” 

Winona hoped against hope that the difficult page 
might fall to somebody else’s turn. Miss Huntley 
took no particular order, but selected girls at ran- 
dom to construe the lesson. In a Form of twenty 
it was possible not to be chosen at all. Winona 
kept very quiet, so as not to attract the mistress’ 
attention. Marjorie Kemp and Olave Parry had 
already translated half of the fatal page, with toler- 
able credit. Miss Huntley’s eye was wandering in 
the direction of Irene Mills. Winona dared to 
breathe. Then, alas! alas! Some unlucky star 
caused the mistress to look back towards the middle 
of the room. In a spasm of nervousness, Winona 
jerked her elbow, and -away went her pencil-box. 


A Crisis 77 

clattering on to the floor, and dispersing its collec- 
tion of pens, pencils, nibs and other treasures be- 
neath the neighboring desks. There was a dead 
silence, and the culprit was instantly the center of 
attention. 

“A clumsy thing to do ! Leave those things where 
they are! You can pick them up after the lesson,” 
observed Miss Huntley grimly. “Go on now with 
the translation.” 

Winona’s hot face had been hidden under Audrey 
Redfern’s desk. She rose reluctantly. Her con- 
fusion made the hard passage seem twice as difficult. 
Even the words which she had carefully looked up 
in the dictionary and learned by heart escaped her 
fickle memory. She stumbled and floundered hope- 
lessly, getting redder and redder with shame. Miss 
Huntley preserved an ominous silence, and did not 
attempt to help her out. 

“That will do!” she said, at the end of about 
eight lines. “After such a complete exhibition of 
incompetence we won’t inflict any more of your 
bungling upon the form. We must see if we can 
find a way of sharpening your wits. Your brain 
seems to have been lying fallow since you came to 
school! You ivill report yourself to Miss Bishop 
at four o’clock this afternoon.” 

The rest of the morning passed like a bad dream 
to Winona. It was a rare event for a teacher to 
send a girl to the head mistress. The prospect of 
the coming interview made her cold with appre- 
hension. She avoided Garnet at one o’clock, and 
hurried out of the dressing-room without speaking 


78 The Luckiest Girl in School 

to any one. She had a wild project of pleading a 
headache, and begging Aunt Harriet to let her stop 
at home for the rest of the day. But then to-mor- 
row’s explanations would be infinitely worse. No, 
it was better to face the horrible ordeal and get 
it over. As it happened, Miss Beach had gone out 
to lunch, so that leave of absence was an impos- 
sibility. Winona ate her early dinner alone. 

“Aren’t you well, miss? Would you like me to 
make you a cup of tea?” asked Alice the housemaid, 
noticing that the pudding was unappreciated, and 
divining that something must be amiss. 

“No, thanks! I’m in a hurry, and must fly off 
to school as quickly as I can. It’s my early after- 
noon.” 

Winona had a music lesson at a quarter past two 
on Thursdays. It was always rather a rush to get 
back in time for it. She crammed her “Bach’s Pre- 
ludes” and “Schubert’s Impromptus” automatically 
into her portfolio, and started. It was only when 
she was half-way down Church Street that she re- 
membered she had left her book of studies on the 
top of the piano. Needless to say, her lesson that 
day was hardly a success. In the disturbed state 
of her mind she was quite incapable of concentrat- 
ing her attention on music. Miss Catteral looked 
surprised at her wrong notes and imperfect phras- 
ing. 

“I shall expect to find some improvement in this 
‘Impromptu’ next week,” she remarked. “Have 
you practiced your hour daily? You must take these 
bars, which I have marked, separately, and play 


A Crisis 79 

each twenty times in succession, slowly at first and 
then faster, and remember here that it is the left 
hand which gives the melody, and the right is only 
the accompaniment. I thought you had sufficient 
music in you to appreciate that! The way you 
thumped out those chords was painful. I am not 
pleased at all.” 

Miss Catteral so rarely scolded that Winona felt 
doubly humiliated. It was all a part and parcel 
of the general ill-luck of the day. She fetched her 
drawing-board, and went to the art class. Here at 
least she would have peace for an hour, though 
every one of the sixty minutes was bringing her 
nearer to her dreaded interview. At four o’clock, 
with a horrible sinking feeling in her heart, and a 
trembling sensation in her knees, she knocked at the 
door of the head-mistress’s study, and entered in 
response to the “Come in!” which followed. Miss 
Bishop looked up from some papers, motioned her 
to a chair, and went on writing for several min- 
utes. To Winona it seemed worse than waiting 
at the dentist’s. The suspense was ghastly. 

At last the Principal paused, laid down her pen, 
and blotted her pages. 

“Come here, Winona Woodward,” she said 
quietly. “I wish to have a straight talk with 
you.” 

Miss Bishop’s eyes were her most striking fea- 
ture. They were large and clear, but the pupils 
were unusually small, appearing mere black specks 
in the midst of a wide circle of blue. This peculi- 
arity gave her a particularly intense and penetrat- 


8o The Luckiest Girl in School 

ing expression. Winona, standing at attention be- 
side the desk, dropped her own eyes before the 
steady, searching gaze. 

“Miss Huntley’s report of your work is not at 
all satisfactory,’’ began Miss Bishop. “I have been 
watching your progress since you joined the school, 
and I cannot think you are trying your best. At 
first, when you were totally new to your Form, I 
suspended judgment, but you have been here nearly 
half a term now — quite long enough to accustom 
yourself to our methods. I confess I am greatly 
disappointed. I had hoped for better things from 
the holder of a County Scholarship.” 

Winona remained silent. She could think of 
nothing to say in self-defense. 

“It must be sheer lack of grit and effort,” con- 
tinued Miss Bishop. “I cannot understand how a 
girl who did so remarkably well in the entrance 
examination can rest content with such a low rec- 
ord. How long do you take over your prepara- 
tion?” 

“Until my aunt sends me to bed,” replied 
Winona, in a very subdued voice. “I spend the 
whole evening at my lessons.” 

Miss Bishop looked puzzled. 

“Then the work must be too difficult for you. 
If that is the case, I must remove you to V.B.” 

V.B. was notorious in the school as a refuge for 
incompetence. It was mainly composed of girls 
of sixteen and seventeen who could not reach the 
standard of the Sixth, and who went by the nick- 
name of “owls” or “stupids.” The prospect of be- 


A Crisis 8i 

Ing relegated to such an intellectual backwater spread 
palpable dismay over Winona’s face. Miss Bishop 
smiled rather grimly. 

“We can’t win honors without paying the price! 
You must know that already by experience. I con- 
clude that you studied hard for the Scholarship ex- 
amination? Well, your Form work requires equally 
close application. Here is Miss Huntley’s report: 
‘French, weak; Latin, beneath criticism; mathe- 
matics, extremely bad.’ Yet in all these three sub- 
jects you gained a high percentage in the entrance 
examination. I have your papers here — ^yes, Latin 
85, French 87, mathematics 92” (rapidly turning 
over the pages), “it is simply incredible how you 
have fallen off.’’ 

Winona was gazing at the sheets of foolscap in 
the Principal’s hand. 

“Those aren’t my papers,” she faltered. 

“Certainly they are. They’re marked with your 
number, ii.” 

“But I wasn’t number ii, I was number 10.” 

Miss Bishop stooped, opened a drawer in her 
bureau, and took out a book. 

“Here it is in black and white,” she replied. 
“No. II, Winona Woodward.” 

Winona’s shaking hands clutched the edge of the 
bureau. In a flash the whole horrible truth was 
suddenly revealed to her. Until that moment she 
had almost forgotten how she and the ruddy-haired 
girl had collided at the door of the examination- 
room, and dropped their cards. In picking them 
up, they must have effected an exchange. She re- 


82 The Luckiest Girl in School 

membered that she had been too agitated to notice 
her number until after the accident had happened. 
She now related the circumstance as best she could. 
Miss Bishop listened aghast. 

“What number did you say you took in the ex- 
amination-room? Ten? That is entered in my 
book as Marjorie Kaye. I have the rest of the 
candidates’ papers in this bundle. Let me see — 
yes, here is No. lo. Is this your handwriting? 
Then I’m afraid there has been a terrible blunder, 
and the scholarship has been awarded to the wrong 
girl.” 

The Principal’s consternation was equalled by 
Winona’s. To the latter the ground seemed slipping 
from under her feet. She tried to speak, but failed. 
A great lump rose in her throat. For a moment the 
room whirled round. 

“This set of papers. No. lo, was marked so low 
as to be out of the running,” continued Miss Bishop. 
“It is a most unfortunate mistake, and places the 
school In an extremely awkward position. I must 
consult with the Governors at once. Pending their 
decision, it will be better not to mention the matter 
to anybody. You may go now.” 

Winona managed somehow to get herself out of 
the study, to put on her hat and coat, and to walk 
home to Abbey Close. Her aunt was still absent, 
for which she was intensely thankful, and ignoring 
the tea that was waiting on the dining-room table, 
she rushed upstairs to her bedroom. Her one im- 
perative need was to be alone. She must face the 
situation squarely. Her world had suddenly turned 


A Crisis 83 

topsy-turvy; instead of being the winner of the 
County Scholarship, she was among the rejected can- 
didates. In her heart of hearts she had always 
marveled how her indifferent papers could have 
scored such a success. She wondered this explana- 
tion had never occurred to her before. All this 
time she had been wearing another girl’s laurels. 
What was going to happen next? She supposed the 
scholarship would be taken from her, and given to 
its rightful owner. And herself? She would prob- 
ably be packed home, as Percy had prophesied, “like 
a whipped puppy.” Possibly Aunt Harriet might 
offer to pay her fee as an ordinary pupil at the 
High School, but in either case the humiliation 
would be supreme. 

Winona dreaded returning home. In spite of 
the difficulty of the work, the High School had 
opened a fresh world to her. She could never again 
be content with the old rut. Miss Harmon’s dull 
lessons would be intolerable, and life without Gar- 
net’s friendship would seem a blank. The compan- 
ionship of her three little sisters was totally inade- 
quate for a girl who was fast growing up. She 
shrank from speculating how her mother would re- 
ceive the bad news. Mrs. Woodward was one of 
those parents who expect their children to gain the 
prizes which they were incapable of winning for 
themselves. She had claimed a kind of second- 
hand credit in her daughter’s triumph. Winona 
knew from past experience that so keen a disap- 
pointment would involve a string of reproaches, re- 
grets and fretting. She would probably never hear 


84 The Luckiest Girl in School 

the last of it. The family hopes had been pinned 
upon her success, and to frustrate them was to court 
utter disgrace. For the present she must live with 
this sword of Damocles hanging over her head, but 
she hoped the Governors would decide the matter 
speedily, and put her out of her misery. 

There is one virtue in a supreme trouble — it 
dwarfs all minor griefs. Percy’s secret, which had 
been felt as a continual burden, seemed to sink into 
comparative obscurity, and the worry of school work 
and the dread of Miss Huntley’s sarcasm were mere 
flies in the ointment. Winona never quite knew 
how she got through the week that followed. It 
stayed afterwards in her memory as a period of 
black darkness, a valley of humiliation, in which her 
old childish self slipped away, and a new, stronger 
and more capable personality was born to face the 
future. She had resigned herself so utterly to the 
inevitable, that when at last Miss Bishop’s sum- 
mons came, she was able to walk quite calmly into 
the study. The Principal was seated as usual at 
her bureau; Winona’s entrance examination papers 
lay before her. Her manner was non-committal; 
her blue eyes looked even more penetrating than 
usual. 

“You will have been wondering what was going 
to happen about the matter of the scholarship,” she 
began. 

“Yes, Miss Bishop,” answered Winona meekly. 
She did not add that she had spent eight days in a 
mental purgatory. 

“I of course placed the facts before the Gov- 


A Crisis 


8s 

ernors, and we at once communicated with the par- 
ents of Marjorie Kaye. We find, however, that in 
the meantime she has been elected a scholar of the 
Maria Harvey Foundation, and will therefore be 
unable to accept this scholarship. Her papers and 
those of Garnet Emerson were the only ones of 
outstanding merit. In re-examining the remaining 
eighteen we find a uniform level of mediocrity. As 
regards your set of papers, the general standard 
is low, with one exception. We consider that your 
essay on Lady Jane Grey shows an originality and 
a capacity for thought which may be worthy of 
training. On the strength of this — and this alone — 
the Governors have decided to allow you to retain 
your scholarship. In so doing they are perfectly 
within their rights. They did not undertake to grant 
free tuition to the candidate who scored the highest 
number of marks, but to the one who, in their 
opinion, was most likely to benefit by the school 
course. It was a matter to be settled entirely at 
their discretion. I have carefully re-read your 
papers, and compared them with your form record, 
and I come to the conclusion that you are backward 
and ill-instructed in many subjects, but that you are 
not idle or stupid. I shall make arrangements for 
you to have special coaching in mathematics, Latin 
and chemistry until you can keep up with the rest 
of the Form. I find your reports for history and 
English literature are good, which confirms my opin- 
ion that you do not lack ability. You will need to 
work very hard, especially at those subjects in which 
you are so deficient, but I trust you will soon show 


86 iThe Luckiest Girl in School 

a marked improvement, and thus justify the decision 
of the Governors. Are you prepared to try?” 

“I don’t know how to thank you — I’ll do my very 
bestl” stammered Winona, quite overcome by this 
unexpected denouement. 

“Then that is all that need be said. Miss Lever 
will take you every day from 3.30 to 4.15 for private 
tuition. Mark that on your time-table, and go to 
her this afternoon in the Preparatory Room. You 
may tell Miss Garside that I am disengaged now, 
and at liberty to speak to hen” 

Winona left the study with very different feelings 
from those with which she had entered. Her spirits 
were so high that she wanted to dance along the 
corridor. She could hardly believe her good fortune. 
Those great and important gentlemen, the Gov- 
ernors, had actually approved of her essay to the 
extent of allowing it to stand as her qualification for 
the Scholarship! She blessed Lady Jane Grey, and 
Edgar Allan Poe, and Browning, and Andre de 
Chenier, and the happy chance that had made her 
combine them all. She was glad she had paid that 
visit to Hampton Court, and that she had seen Lady 
Jane Grey’s portrait, and had been able to describe 
both. Life was going to be a very exhilarating 
business, now her position in the school was once 
more secure. 

“I’ll show them how I can work,” she thought. 
“They shan’t be sorry that they let me stay after 
all! Oh, I am in luck! Yes, I’m the luckiest girl 
in the school!” 


CHAPTER VII 


An Autumn Foray 

Winona felt that she now started life at the High 
School on an entirely new basis. Miss Bishop and 
Miss Huntley understood her limitations and judged 
her accordingly. It was not by any means that they 
lowered their standard, but that they appreciated 
her difficulty in keeping up with the Form and gave 
her credit for her hard work. And hard work it 
undoubtedly was. She would get up early in the 
morning to revise her lessons before breakfast, and 
would sit tolling over books and exercises in the 
evenings till even Aunt Harriet — indefatigable 
worker herself — would tell her to stop, and wax 
moral on the folly of burning the candle at both 
ends. The coaching from Miss Lever was of in- 
estimable value. It supplied just the gaps in which 
she was deficient, and gave her an adequate grasp 
of her three toughest subjects. Slowly she began 
to make headway, she saw light in mathematical 
problems that had before been meaningless formulae, 
chemistry was less of a hopeless tangle, and Vergil’s 
lines construed into understandable sentences instead 
of utter nonsense. It was only gradual progress, 
however. She had much ground to cover before 
she caught up the Form. She was plodding, but not 
a brilliant all-round scholar like Garnet. Xhe fact 


88 The Luckiest Girl in School 

was that Winona was only clever in one direction: 
in the realm of imagination her mind ran like a 
racehorse, but harnessed to heavy intellectual bur- 
dens it proved but a sorry steed. 

It was fortunate for both her health and her 
spirits that head work did not represent the only 
side of school activities. Miss Bishop was wise 
enough to lay much stress on physical development. 
A ten minutes’ drill was part of the daily routine, 
a gymnasium practice was held twice a week, and 
Wednesday afternoons were devoted to hockey. In 
addition to this the girls played tennis on the asphalt 
courts during the winter and spring terms, whenever 
the weather was suitable, and basket ball was con- 
stantly going on in the playground. Athletics was 
decidedly the fashionable cult of the school. Kirsty 
Paterson, as Games Captain, made it her business 
to see that nobody slacked without justifiable cause. 
She would break up knots of chatting idlers, and 
cajole them forth to “cultivate muscle” as she ex- 
pressed it, while her keen eye was quick to note any- 
body’s “points” and employ them for the general 
benefit. Kirsty’s jolly, breezy manner and strict 
sense of justice made her an admirable captain. 
She was highly popular with juniors as well as 
seniors, for she took the trouble to organize the 
games of the little girls as carefully as those of their 
elders. 

“It’s insane short-sighted policy to neglect the 
kids,” was her creed. “Now’s the time to be train- 
ing them. Get them thoroughly well in hand and 
make them understand what’s expected from them. 


An Autumn Foray 89 

and in four or five years’ time they’ll be crack 
players. Yes, I know It’s looking far ahead, and 
we prefects won’t be here to see the result, but 
the school will reap the benefit some day and that’s 
the main thing to aim at. I’m proud of my cadets 
and. In the future, when they’re winning laurels for 
the Seaton High, perhaps they’ll remember I started 
them on the right track. ‘Keep up the standard all 
round’ is going to be the motto while I’m Cap- 
tain.” 

To Winona athletics and organized games came 
as a revelation. She had a slim wiry little figure 
and was a good runner, with a capacity for keeping 
her breath, and had also a considerable power of 
spring, all of which stood her In good stead both 
in the hockey field and in the gymnasium. Though 
Kirsty said little, she could feel her efforts were 
being watched and approved, and the knowledge 
gave her a tingling sense of satisfaction. It was 
delightful to feel that she was a factor in this big 
school, and that she was doing her bit — however 
insignificant — to help up the athletic standard. In 
physical agility Winona was superior to Garnet. 
She could beat her easily at tennis, and there was 
already a wide gap between their gymnastic achieve- 
ments. It was a fortunate circumstance, for it just 
balanced their friendship, and put them on a foot- 
ing of equality which would have been otherwise 
absent. Garnet, so manifestly first in Form work, 
possessed of greater confidence and savoir faire in 
school life and older in experience for her years 
than Winona, might have monopolized the lead too 


90 The Luckiest Girl in School 

entirely, had she not been obliged to yield the palm 
of outdoor sports to her friend. 

Garnet was, in truth, just a trifle inclined to 
“boss.” She liked Winona, and wanted her for a 
chum, but she loved to lay down the law and to 
constitute herself an authority upon every possible 
subject. There was no doubt it was owing to her 
initiative that the two scholarship-holders were gain- 
ing a position for themselves in the school. As Gar- 
net had foreseen, the part they had taken in the 
Symposium won them favorable recognition. To 
be singled out as soloists and to have the honor 
of playing an accompaniment for the prefects had 
raised them above the common herd, and though 
a few were jealous, more were ready to extend the 
hand of good fellowship. In their own Form they 
were living down the prejudice which had at first 
existed against them. Hilda Langley and Estelle 
Harrison were not very friendly and influenced 
Olave Parry and Mollie Hill against them, but these 
formed a minority, and the bulk of the girls seemed 
to have decided in their favor. 

With the enormous demands made on her time 
by her home preparation, Winona did not venture 
to join many of the school guilds. She would have 
liked immensely to put her name down for election 
to the Dramatic Society, the Debating Club and the 
Literary Association, but these all required rather 
strenuous brain work from their members, and in 
the circumstances she knew it would be folly to take 
them up. At some future date, when her ordinary 
subjects proved less of a burden, she promised her- 


91 


An Autumn Foray 

self the pleasure of being numbered among that 
select clique known as “The Intellectuals,” but for 
the present her motto must be “grim grind.” The 
Patriotic Knitting Guild seemed more feasible. She 
paid her subscription,, received her skeins of khaki 
wool, and started mittens to fill up odd moments. 
She found the knitting a soothing occupation, it 
could be taken up and laid down so easily; it often 
went to school with her, and would come out during 
the interval, or while she was waiting for a class. 
The Photographic Union was beyond her, for as 
yet she had no camera, but she thought she was 
justified in joining the Natural History League. 
This society did not for the present demand papers 
from its members, but contented itself with encour- 
aging the collection of objects for the school mu- 
seum. Its main activities would be during the sum- 
mer term, though a weather record was kept 
throughout the year, and any nature notes that were 
worthy of being written down were duly chronicled 
in the Field Book. Linda Fletcher and Annie 
Hardy, two of the prefects, were the leading spirits 
in the League. Linda was great on entomology, 
and, having a brother who was interested in the 
subject, had been out “sugaring” in his company 
in August and September, and had secured some 
fine specimens of moths. She had boxes full of 
chrysalides which she fondly hoped would emerge 
in the spring into perfect insects, and she had made 
quite a good little collection of beetles. Annie was 
more interested in botany, she pressed flowers and 
leaves, dried fruits and seed vessels, and made praise- 


92 The Luckiest Girl in School 

worthy efforts at preserving funguses in bottles, 
though these latter attempts were not always at- 
tended with the success they deserved, as they were 
apt to acquire a gamey odor, to which her mother 
very naturally objected, and she would be obliged 
disconsolately to turn them out into the dust-bin. 

November happened to be a particularly fine 
month at Seaton. There had been little rain, and 
no high winds to blow the leaves away. Though 
the trees in the city were bare, those in the country 
round about remained almost in their October glory, 
and in sheltered woods some were still green. The 
persistent sunshine encouraged the Natural History 
League to plan an excursion for its members, and 
after a consultation with Miss Lever, the Botany 
mistress, Linda pinned up the following announce- 
ment on the school notice board : — 

Natural History League. 

An Autumn Foray will be held on Saturday next, 
visiting Monkend Woods and Copplestone Quarry. 
Members will meet at station for the 12.45 train to 
Powerscroft, returning by the 5.30 from Chartwell. 
Tea at farm-house. Walking distance five miles. 
Leaders: Miss Lever, Linda Fletcher and Annie 
Hardy. Those intending to join kindly give their 
names to the Secretary on Wednesday at latest. 

L. Fletcher, 

Hon. Sec. 

The prospect of a ramble was alluring. Winona 
was a country lover, so she forthwith secured Aunt 


An Autumn Foray 93 

Harriet’s permission for the outing and placed her 
name upon the list. 

“I don’t think there’ll be more than a dozen of 
us altogether,” said Linda, “but really a small party’s 
more manageable than a big one, and I’ll undertake 
we enjoy ourselves. Miss Lever can get permission 
for us to walk through the private part of the woods 
— there’s no shooting this autumn, you know — so 
that will be simply glorious, and she says we ought 
to find some fossils In the quarry, if we’ve luck. 
I hope the weather will keep up. Don’t forget to 
take a vasculum or a basket, and a hammer for fos- 
sils, and be sure you put on strong boots. The tea 
will probably be elghtpence a head. Miss Lever is 
writing beforehand to the farm to make arrange- 
ments.” 

Garnet also was to join the excursion and she 
promised to call for Winona, so that they might 
walk to the station together. The latter had an 
early lunch, and was ready dressed and waiting for 
her friend by twenty minutes past twelve. Garnet’s 
tram was late, and by the time she reached Abbey 
Close the clock pointed to the half-hour. 

“I’m frightfully sorry! You must think me a 
Juggins, but it wasn’t my fault!” she apologized. 
“We shall have to sprint, but we’ll just do it.” 

The girls set off at a tremendous pace along the 
Close and down the Abbey avenue, but it was diffi- 
cult to keep the same speed through the town, where 
the streets were thronged with country people who 
had come in for the Saturday market. They got 
along as best they could, walking first on the pave- 


94 The Luckiest Girl in School 

merit and then on the road, dodging round stout 
females bearing baskets, avoiding hooting motors, 
and finally making a dash down a back street that 
led to the railway bridge. They clattered down the 
steps to the booking office, secured their tickets and 
rushed on to the platform. The hands of the big 
clock were at 12.45 exactly, the guard was about to 
wave his green flag. They were too late to look 
for their party; they simply pelted towards the 
nearest carriage, a porter opened the door and they 
scrambled In just In the very nick of time. 

“Oh, thank goodness ! Thank goodness !” gasped 
Garnet. “I thought we’d miss it I I never had 
such a run in my life before I Oh ! It’s given me a 
stitch in my side!” 

“They’ve put us in a first!” exulted Winona, 
breathlessly. “We have it all to ourselves! What 
luck! Hope they won’t make a fuss about our 
tickets when we get out !” 

“It was the porter’s fault. He opened the door. 
We’ll ask Miss Lever to explain. I suppose the 
others are further along somewhere in the train. I 
wonder if they saw us get in?” 

“If they didn’t, it will be a surprise packet for 
them when we turn up.” 

“Yes, they’ll have made up their minds we’re left 
behind.” 

The two girls leaned back, enjoying the luxury 
of traveling in a first-class compartment. They felt 
the excursion had begun well as far as they were 
concerned. Their satisfaction was short-lived, how- 


An Autumn Foray 95 

ever. When they neared Barnhill, the train, in- 
stead of stopping, rushed through the station at 
thirty-five miles an hour. Garnet turned to Winona 
in utter consternation. 

“Oh, good-night!” she ejaculated. “I verily be- 
lieve we’ve gone and got into the express !” 

They saw at once how it had happened. The 
12.40 fast train to Rockfield must have been five 
minutes late. In their hurry they had mistaken 
it for the stopping train, which probably had been 
drawn up behind it in the station. 

“Well, this is a pretty go!” agreed Winona. 
“We shall be carried on to Rockfield and have to 
come back.” 

“We shall miss the ramble! Oh, it’s the limit of 
hard luck — to see ourselves whizzing through 
Powerscroft !” 

“I say, I believe we’re stopping after all!” 

They let down the window and looked out. They 
were still about a mile from Powerscroft, but the 
train drew up, probably in obedience to an adverse 
signal. Then the girls did a terrible and awful thing. 
They never remembered afterwards which suggested 
it, probably the idea occurred to both simultaneously, 
but in defiance of the law of the realm and the rules 
of the railway company, they opened the door of 
the carriage and climbed down on to the line. There 
were some railings near, and they scrambled over 
these and dodged down an embankment into a cop- 
pice before anybody in the train had time to give 
an alarm. They hoped their flight had not been 


96 The Luckiest Girl in School 

noticed, but of that they could not be sure. They 
hid behind some bushes until they heard the train 
rumble away. 

“That was the smartest thing we’ve ever done 
in our lives!’’ chuckled Garnet. “I believe we could 
be fined about ten pounds each if they caught us!’’ 

“Let us hurry on and try to find the road,’’ said 
Winona, who was rather frightened at her own 
temerity, and had a nervous apprehension lest a 
guard or a signalman or some other railway official 
might even now be in pursuit and arrest them on a 
charge of breaking the law. 

After crossing a field they struck a path which 
led them eventually into a by-lane. 

“I know where we are,” affirmed Garnet. “I 
bicycled this way once. Monkend Woods are in that 
direction, and if we turn to the left and through this 
village we shall get there sooner than the others, I 
believe, and be waiting for them when they arrive. 
Their train won’t have reached Powerscroft yet.” 

“We’d better step out all the same,” urged 
Winona. 

Fortunately Garnet possessed the bump of local- 
ity. Her recollection of the district was correct, 
and after a brisk walk of about a mile they found 
themselves in the high road close to the wood, and 
sat down on a wall to wait. Their fast train and 
short cut had given them an advantage : it was nearly 
half an hour before they spied the rest of the party 
strolling leisurely up the hill with baskets and vas- 
culums. The surprise of the League at seeing them 
was Immense, and naturally there were many in- 


An Autumn Foray 97 

quiries as to how they had thus stolen a march 
upon their friends. 

“Oh, we came in an aeroplane!” said Garnet 
jauntily. “It just dropped us in the field over there. 
Very pleasant run, though a little chilly in the 
clouds I” 

She was obliged to own up, however, in answer 
to Miss Lever’s inquiries, give a precise account of 
their adventure, and cry “peccavi.” 

“Of course Dollikins had to be orthodox and 
preach a short sermon,” she confided afterwards to 
Winona, “but I’m sure she’d have done the same 
thing herself in the circumstances. I could see ad- 
miration in her eye, although she talked about run- 
ning risks and the possibility of broken necks.” 

Miss Lever, otherwise Dollikins, from the fact 
that her Christian name was Dorothy, held high 
favor among the girls. She was brisk and jolly, 
decidedly athletic, and a first-rate leader of outdoor 
expeditions. She had called at the gamekeeper’s 
cottage en route and shown the letter of permission 
from the owner of the property, so that the party 
was able to explore the wood with a clear conscience, 
despite the trespass notice nailed on to the gate. 
And what a delightful wood it was! To enter it 
was like stepping into one of Grimm’s fairy tales. 
An avenue of splendid pines reared their dark boughs 
against a russet background of beeches; everywhere 
the leaves seemed to have donned their brightest 
and gayest tints, as if bidding a last good-by before 
they fell from the trees. The undergrowth was 
gorgeous: bramble, elder, honeysuckle, briony, 


98 The Luckiest Girl in School 

rowan, and alder vied with one another in the 
vividness of their crimson and orange, while the 
bracken was a sea of pale gold. There were all 
sorts of delightful things to be found — acorns lay 
so plentifully in the pathway that the girls could 
not help scrunching them underfoot. A few were 
already sending out tiny shoots in anticipation of 
spring, and these were carefully saved to take home 
and grow in bottles. A stream ran through the 
wood, its banks almost completely covered with vivid 
green mosses, in sheets so thick and compact that 
a slight pull would raise a yard at a time. Some 
resembled tufted tassels, some the most delicate 
ferns, and others showed the split cups of their seed- 
vessels like pixie goblets. Annie Hardy, whose ex- 
perienced eyes were on the look-out for certain 
botanical treasures reported to grow at Monkend, 
was searching among the dead twigs under the hazel 
bushes, and was rewarded by finding a clump of 
the curious little birds-nest fungus with its seeds 
packed like tiny eggs inside. Some orange elf-cups, 
a bright red toadstool or two, and a few of the 
larger purple varieties that had lingered on from 
October made quite a creditable fungus record for 
the League, and specimens of wild flowers were also 
secured, a belated foxglove or two, a clump of rag- 
wort, some blue harebells, campion, herb-robert, but- 
tercup, yarrow, thistle, and actually a strawberry 
blossom. The leaders had brought note-books and 
wrote down each find as reported by the members, 
taking the specimens for Miss Lever to verify if 
there were any doubt as to identification. Animal 


An Autumn Foray 99 

and bird life was not absent. Shy bunnies whisked 
away, showing a dab of white tail' as they dived 
under the bracken; a splendid squirrel ran across 
the path and darted up an oak tree, a wood-pigeon 
whirred from a pine top, a great woodpecker, scared 
by their approach, started from the bushes and flew 
past them so near that they could see the green flash 
of its wings and the red markings on its head, while 
a whole fluttering flight of long-tailed tits were flit- 
ting like a troop of fairies round the bole of a lichen- 
covered beech. 

Miss Lever was as enthusiastic as the girls; she 
climbed over fallen tree trunks, grubbed among dead 
leaves, jumped the brook and scaled fences with 
delightful energy. It was she who pointed out the 
heron sailing overhead, and noticed the gold-crested 
wren’s^ nest hanging under the branch of a fir, a little 
battered with autumn rain, and too high, alas ! to be 
taken, but a most interesting Item to go down in the 
note-books. The girls could hardly be persuaded to 
tear themselves away from the glory of the woods, 
and would have spent the whole time there, but Miss 
Lever had other plans. 

“Come along! We’ve scared the pheasants quite 
enough,” she declared. “My mind is set on fossils, 
and if we don’t go on to Copplestones at once we 
shall be caught in the dark, or miss our tea or our 
train or something equally disagreeable.” 

The quarry was only half a mile away, and It 
proved as Interesting as the wood. Being Saturday 
afternoon the men were not working, so they had 
the place to themselves, and wandered about exam- 


lOO 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

ining heaps of shale, and tapping likely-looking 
stones with their hammers. Garnet and Winona 
knew nothing of geology, so they listened with due 
meekness while the instructed few discoursed learn- 
edly on palaeozoic rocks, stratified conglomerates and 
quartzites. They rejoiced with Miss Lever, how- 
ever, when she secured a fairly intact belemnite. 
It was the only good find they had, though some 
of the girls got broken bits of fossil shells. 

“The fact is one needs a whole day to hunt about 
in this quarry, and my watch tells me we ought to be 
going,” said Miss Lever. “Who feels inclined for 
tea ?” 

Everybody felt very much disposed, so the pro- 
cession started off cheerfully for the farm close by, 
and the nature-lovers were soon hard at work con- 
suming platefuls of bread and butter, jars of jam, 
and piles of plum cake. 

“Sixteen varieties of wild flowers, seven various 
specimens of fungi, nine different sorts of berries, 
twelve species of birds noticed, also rabbits and 
squirrel, one bird’s nest and one perfect fossil — not 
a bad record for an autumn forayl” said Linda, 
proudly consulting her note-book. 

“Especially when you remember we’re well on in 
November!” added Annie. “It will be something 
to enter in the League minutes book.” 

“I’m afraid it’s the last ramble we shall get this 
year,” said Miss Lever, “but I’ve one or two nice 
little schemes on hand for the spring, so the League 
must look forward to next April. Will any one 


lOI 


An Autumn Foray 

have any more tea? Then please make a move, 
for it’s time we were starting.” 

“Good old Dollikins!” murmured Linda as the 
girls put on their coats. “She’s Ai at a foray. Got 
something ripping for next season in her head. I 
can tell by the twinkle in her eye. She’ll ruminate 
over it all winter, and drop it on us as a surprise 
some day. Oh, thunder! Yes, we ought to be start- 
ing! Come along, you slackers, do you want to 
be left standing on the platform with a couple of 
hours to wait for the next train? Then sprint as 
hard as you can I” 


CHAPTER VIII 

Concerns a Camera 

Winona went home at Christmas with a whole 
world of new experiences to call her own. Her first 
term had indeed been an epoch in her life, and 
though the holidays were naturally welcome, she felt 
that she could look forward with pleasure to the 
next session of school. Her family received her 
with a certain amount of respect. The younger ones 
listened enviously to her accounts of hockey matches 
and symposiums, and began to wish Fate had wafted 
their fortunes to Seaton. They had left Miss Har- 
mon’s little school, and next term were expecting, 
with some apprehension, a governess whom Aunt 
Harriet had recommended. Winona, who after 
thirteen weeks at Abbey Close found the home 
arrangements rather chaotic, could not help pri- 
vately endorsing Miss Beach’s wisdom in instituting 
such a change. Poor Mrs. Woodward had been 
greatly out of health for the last few months, and 
kept much to her bedroom, while the children had 
been running wild in a quite deplorable fashion. 
Letty, who ought to have had some influence over 
the others, was the naughtiest of all, and the ring- 
leader in every mischievous undertaking. Having 
occupied the position of “eldest” for thirteen weeks, 
she was not at all disposed to submit to her sister’s 


102 


Concerns a Camera 103 

authority, and there were many tussles between the 
two. 

“You’ll have to do as your governess tells you, 
when she comes !’’ protested Winona on one particu- 
larly urgent occasion. 

“All right. Grannie 1” retorted Letty pertly. 
“I’ll settle that matter with the good lady herself, 
and in the meantime I’m not going to knuckle under 
to you, so don’t think it! You needn’t come back 
so precious high and mighty from your High School, 
and expect to boss the whole show here. So there !’’ 

And Winona, who aforetime had been able to 
subdue her unruly sister, found herself baffled, for 
their mother was ill, and must not be disturbed, and 
Percy, who might have been on her side, would only 
lie on the sofa and guffaw. 

“Fight it out, like a pair of Kilkenny cats!” was 
his advice. “I’ll sweep up the fragments that re- 
main of you afterwards. No, I’m not going to back 
either of you. Go ahead and get it over!” 

Percy had grown immensely during this last term. 
He was now seventeen, and very tall, though at 
present decidedly lanky. The Cadet Corps at his 
school absorbed most of his interests. He held em- 
phatic opinions upon the war, and aired them daily 
to his family over the morning paper. According 
to his accounts, matters seemed likely to make little 
progress until he and his contemporaries at Long- 
worth College should have reached military age, and 
be able to take their due part in the struggle, at 
which happy crisis the Germans would receive a set- 
back that would astonish the Kaiser. 


104 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“Our British tactics have been all wrong!” he de- 
clared. “I can tell you we follow things out inch 
by inch at Longworth, and you should just hear what 
Johnstone Major has to say. Some of those gen- 
erals at the Front are old women! They ought to 
send them home, and set them some knitting to do. 
If I’d the ordering of affairs I’d give the command 
to fellows under twenty-five ! New wine should be 
in new bottles.” 

The younger children listened with admiration to 
Percy’s views on war topics, much regretting that the 
Government had not yet obtained the benefit of his 
advice. Godfrey even hoped that the war would not 
be over before there was a chance for precept to 
be put into practice, and already, in imagination, 
saw his brother in the uniform of a Field Marshal. 
Winona smiled tolerantly. She took Percy’s opin- 
ions for what they were worth. If his school re- 
port was anything to go by, he had certainly not 
won laurels at Longworth this term, in the direc- 
tion of brainwork, and the headmaster’s comment: 
“Lacking in steady application,” had probably been 
amply justified. 

Winona was not altogether happy about Percy, 
these holidays. Jack Cassidy was spending Christ- 
mas at the Vicarage, and claimed much of his time, 
and the influence was not altogether for good. 
Young Cassidy had already given the Vicar, his 
guardian and former tutor, considerable trouble. 
At twenty-two he had run through a large propor- 
tion of the money which had come to him at his 
majority, though fortunately he could not touch the 


Concerns a Camera 105 

bulk of hrs property till he should be twenty-five. At 
present he was waiting for a commission, and amus- 
ing himself as best he could in the village until the 
welcome missive should arrive. For lack of other 
congenial companions he sought Percy’s society. 
Neither Mr. James, the Vicar, nor Mrs. Woodward 
realized how much the two young fellows were to- 
gether, or they certainly would not have encouraged 
the intimacy. Winona, who was just old enough 
to recognize certain undesirable features, tackled 
Percy in private. 

“Mother wouldn’t like your going into ‘The Blue 
Harp,’ and playing billiards with Jack!” she remon- 
strated. “You were there hours yesterday. Doesn’t 
it cost a lot?” 

“Oh, Jack pays for it! At least he settles with 
old Chub^bs. I have a bit on the score, of course, 
but he says that can wait a while. I’m improv- 
ing, and I’ll beat him yet, and win my own 
back.” 

“You promised mother you wouldn’t bet again, 
after what happened last Easter.” 

“Now don’^t you go jaw-wagging!” 

“Well, I must say something! If Mr. Joyn- 
son ” 

“Old Joynson may go and boil his head! I’m 
seventeen now. Look here. Win, if you’re going to 
turn sneak ” 

“Sneak, indeed! Do I ever tell your secrets? 
Think what you did at Aunt Harriet’s !” 

Percy changed color. 

“You’ve not breathed a word about that?” 


io6 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“Of course I haven’t, but I’m always terrified that 
she’ll find out.” 

“It was a rocky little business. I say, Win, I was 
looking up wills in ‘Every Man his Own Lawyer.’ 
If Aunt Harriet died intestate all her estate would 
go to her next-of-kin, and that’s Uncle Herbert Beach 
out in China. The mater wouldn’t have a look-in, 
because her mother was only Aunt Harriet’s half- 
sister. Uncle Herbert would just get the lot. She 
ought to make another will at once.” 

“Had you better tell, then?” faltered Winona. 

“Tell? Certainly not! But you might very well 
suggest it to her. You’ve plenty of opportunities, 
as you’re living there. Bring the conversation round 
to wills, and ask casually if she’s made hers.” 

“Oh, I couldn’t!” 

“Yes, you could. You ought to do it, Winona. 
The mater stands to lose everything as it is. It 
would probably make Aunt Harriet look inside the 
drawer, and then she’d see her paper was gone.” 

“And suspect us!” 

“Why should she know we’d had anything to do 
with it? The servants might have been rummaging. 
I certainly think it’s your duty, Win, to take some 
steps.” 

It was rather fine to hear Percy preaching duty 
on a subject in which he was so plainly a defaulter. 
Winona at first indignantly repudiated the task he 
wished to impose upon her. Nevertheless, the idea 
kept returning and troubling her. She was sure 
Aunt Harriet ought to know that the will had been 
destroyed, and if it was impossible to tell her out- 


Concerns a Camera 


107 


right, this would certainly be a means of putting her 
on the track. Winona’s whole soul revolted from 
the notion of speculating upon possible advantages 
to be gained from a relative’s death. She would 
rather let Uncle Herbert inherit everything than 
interfere for herself. But for her mother it was a 
different matter. Aunt Harriet might wish her god- 
daughter to receive part of her fortune, and to con- 
ceal the destruction of the will might mean depriv- 
ing Mrs. Woodward of a handsome legacy. How 
to make Miss Beach realize the loss of the paper 
without getting Percy into trouble was a problem 
tl\at might have perplexed older and wiser heads. 

Meanwhile it was holiday time, and there were 
many more pleasant subjects to think about. 
Winona’s Christmas present had been a small hand 
camera, the very thing for which she had longed 
during the whole of the past term. She contem- 
plated it with the utmost satisfaction. Now she 
would be able to join the Photographic Club at 
school, to go out on some of the Saturday afternoon 
expeditions, and to have a few of her prints in the 
Exhibition. She could take snap-shots of the girls 
and the classroom, and make them into picture post- 
cards to send to her mother, and she could make 
a series of home photos to hang up in her bedroom 
at Abbey Close. There seemed no limit indeed to 
the possibilities of her new camera. She guarded 
it jealously from the prying fingers of the younger 
members of the family. 

“Paws off!” she commanded. “Anybody who 
interferes with this Kodak will quarrel with me, so 


io8 The Luckiest Girl in School 

I give you full and fair warning! Oh, yes, Dorrie! 

I dare say you’d just like to press the button ! I’d 
guarantee your fairy fingers to smash anything! 
It’s ‘mustn’t touch, only look’ where this is con- 
cerned. No personal familiarities, please!” 

December and January were scarcely propitious 
months for the taking of snap-shots, but Winona 
attempted some time exposures, with varying results. 
It was difficult to make the children realize the neces- 
sity of keeping absolutely still, and they spoilt 
several of her plates by grinning or moving. She 
secured quite a nice photo of the house, however, and 
several of the village, and promised herself better 
luck with family portraits when the summer came 
round again. She turned a large cupboard in the 
attic into her dark-room, and spent many hours 
dabbling among chemicals. She had urgent offers 
of help, but rejected them steadfastly, greatly to 
the disappointment of her would-be assistants. Her 
sanctum became a veritable Bluebeard’s chamber, 
for to prevent possible accidents she locked the door, 
and kept the key perpetually in her pocket during the 
day time, sleeping with it under her pillow at night. 
In the summer she meant to try all kinds of experi- 
ments. She had visions of rigging up a shelter made 
of leaves and branches, and taking a series of mag- 
nificent snapshots of wild birds and animals, like 
those in the books by Cherry Kearton, and she cer- 
tainly intended to secure records of the sports at 
school. In the meantime she must content herself 
with landscape and still life. “I’ll have one of the 
de Claremont tomb, at any rate,” she resolved. 


Concerns a Camera 109 

The de Claremont tomb was the glory of Ash- 
bourne Church. It was of white marble, and beau- 
tifully sculptured. Sir Guy de Claremont lay rep- 
resented in full armor, with his lady in ruff and 
coif by his side. Six sons and four daughters, all 
kneeling, were carved in has relief round the side 
of the monument. Long, long ago, in the Middle 
Ages, the de Claremonts had been the great people 
of the neighborhood. They had fought in the Cru- 
sades, had taken their part in the wars of the 
Barons, had declared for the White Rose in the 
struggle with the House of Lancaster, and cast in 
their lot for the King against Oliver Cromwell. 
The family was extinct now, and their lands had 
passed to others, but a few tattered banners and 
an old helmet still hung on the wall of the side 
chapel, above the tomb, testifying to their former 
achievements. From her seat in church Winona had 
a good view of the monument. She admired it 
immensely, and had often woven romances about 
the good knights of old who had carried those 
banners to the battle-field. She felt that she would 
like to secure a satisfactory photo. She started off 
one morning’ at about half-past eleven, when the 
light was likely to be best. 

It was a sunny day, and wonderfully bright for 
January. She had meant to go alone, but the chil- 
dren were on the look-out, and tracked her, so she 
arrived at the church door closely followed by Letty, 
Mamie, Godfrey, Ernie and Dorrie. She hesitated 
for a moment whether to send them straight home 
or not, but the church was a mile from Highfield, 


no 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

and the mill weir, a place of fascination to Ernie, 
lay on the way, so she decided that it would be 
safest to let well alone. 

“They’re imps, but they’ll have to behave them- 
selves decently in church,” she said to herself. 

At present the conduct of the family was ex- 
emplary. They walked in on tip-toe, and talked in 
whispers. Mamie, indeed, cast an envious eye to- 
wards the forbidden ground of the pulpit, into which 
it was her ambition some day to climb, and wave her 
arms about in imitation of the Vicar, but she 
valiantly restrained her longings, and kept from the 
neighborhood of the chancel. Letty took a surrep- 
titious peep at the organ, and was disappointed to 
find it locked, as was also the little oak door that 
led up the winding staircase to the bell tower. She 
decided that the parish clerk was much too atten- 
tive to his duties. 

“Come along over here, can’t you?” said Winona 
suspiciously. “Leave those hymn-books alone, and 
tell Dorrie she’s not to touch the font, or I’ll stick 
her inside and pop the lid on her. Go and sit down, 
all of you, in that pew, while I take the photo.” 

The family for once complied obediently, if some- 
what reluctantly. It was better to play the part of 
spectators than to be left out of the proceedings 
altogether. In the circumstances they knew Winona 
had the whip-hand, and that if she ordered them 
from the church there would be no appeal. They 
watched her now with interest and enthusiasm. 

It took her a long time to fix her camera in good 
position. It was difficult to see properly in the view- 


Concerns a Camera m 

finder, and she wanted to be quite sure that when 
the head of Sir Guy was safely in the right-hand 
corner, his feet were not out of the picture at the 
left, to say nothing of the ten kneeling children 
underneath. 

“It’s impossible to get the wall above If I’m to 
take the inscription on the monument,” she declared, 
“and yet I mustn’t leave out the old helmet on any 
account. I shall take It down, and put it at the 
bottom of the tomb while I photograph it. It ought 
to come out rather well there.” 

Rejecting eager offers of help from Mamie and 
Ernie, Winona climbed up on to the stately person 
of Dame Margaret de Claremont, and managed to 
take the helmet from the wooden peg on which 
it was suspended. She posed it at the foot of the 
monument, on the right hand side. 

“There’s a splendid light from this window — 
full sunshine! I think if I give It five minutes’ ex- 
posure, that ought to do the deed. Now don’t 
any of you so much as cough, or you’ll disturb the 
air.” 

The family felt that five minutes the very limit of 
endurance. The moment it was ended they dis- 
persed to ease their strained feelings. Letty and 
Ernie walked briskly up the nave. Mamie went 
to investigate the stove. Winona herself took the 
camera to the opposite side of the church to photo- 
graph a Jacobean tablet. Six-year-old Dorrie re- 
mained sitting on a hassock in the pew. She had 
a plan in her crafty young mind. She wanted to 
examine the helmet, and she knew Winona would 


II2 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

be sure to say “Paws off!” or something equally 
offensive and objectionable. She waited till her 
sister was safely out of the way, then she stole from 
her cover, grabbed the helmet, and returned to the 
shelter of the pew. It made quite an interesting and 
fascinating plaything in her estimation. She amused 
herself with it for a long time, until she heard 
Winona’s voice proclaiming that if they didn’t trot 
home quickly they’d be late for dinner, whereupon 
she popped it under the seat, and joined the others. 
Winona, of course, ought to have replaced it on its 
peg on the wall, but her memory was far from 
perfect, and she completely forgot all about 
it. 

The whole thing seemed a most trivial incident, 
but it had an amazing sequel. On Saturday after- 
noons Mrs. Fisher, the caretaker, always came to 
sweep and tidy up the church in preparation for 
Sunday. She was a little, thin, sharp-nosed, im- 
pulsive woman, and just at present her nerves were 
rather in a shaky condition for fear of Zeppelins. 
She lived in perpetual terror of bombs or German 
spies, and always slept with half her clothing on, 
in case she should be forced to get up in a hurry 
and flee for her life. On this particular Saturday 
afternoon Mrs. Fisher, as was her wont, washed the 
pavement of the nave, and then took her broom 
and her duster into the side chapel. Nobody sat 
there as a rule, so she did not give it very much 
attention. She flicked the duster over the monu- 
ment, hastily swept the floor in front, and was just 
about to turn away, having done her duty, when 


Concerns a Camera 113 

she caught sight of something under the seat of a 
pew. She put her hand to her heart, and turned 
as white as her own best linen apron. She divined 
instantly what it must be. With great presence 
of mind she stole softly away on tiptoe. Once out- 
side the church she indulged in a comfortable little 
burst of hysterics. Then she felt better, and went 
to tell the parish clerk. Before evening the news 
had spread all over the village. 

“It was brought in a motor car,” Mrs. Pikes at 
the shop informed her customers, “and Wilson’s 
little boy says he heard them talking German.” 

“There was a foreign-looking sort of a chap rode 
past our house on a bicycle the other day,” volun- 
teered the blacksmith’s assistant. 

“You never know where you are with strangers 
in war time,” said another. 

Everybody agreed that it was a mercy Mrs. Fisher 
had seen it when she did, and they were glad the 
church was a goodish way from the village. 

The Woodward family generally started off for 
service almost directly after the bells began to ring. 
On the following Sunday morning, however, they 
were considerably perplexed. The familiar “ding- 
dong, ding-dong” which ought to have been pealing 
forth was not to be heard. They listened in vain, 
and consulted all the clocks in the house. 

“It’s certainly after ten,” said Mrs. Woodward. 
“I’m afraid something must have happened ! I hope 
Mr. James isn’t ill. Well, we’d better go at any 
rate, and see what’s the matter.” 

So the family, which was ready In its best Sunday 


1 14 The Luckiest Girl in School 

garments, sallied forth. Ashbourne Church stood a 
whole mile away from the village, in a lonely spot 
with only a couple of cottages near it. The Wood- 
wards took a short cut across the common from 
Highfield, so that they did not pass any houses or 
meet any neighbors by the way. They arrived at 
the church to find the door locked, and the Vicar 
and his family standing in consternation outside. 
Mr. James hailed them with relief. 

“So it is Sunday!” he exclaimed. “I began to 
think we must have mistaken the day! I can’t un- 
derstand what’s the matter. Nobody’s here except 
ourselves. What’s becomes of Stevens?” 

It was certainly an unprecedented circumstance to 
find choir, congregation, organist, organ-blower, 
bell-ringer and verger all conspicuous by their ab- 
sence. Mr. James went to the cottages near to 
make inquiries as to the cause. The first was locked 
up, but by knocking long and loudly at the door of 
the second, he at last succeeded in rousing Jacob 
Johnson, a deaf old man of eighty-three. 

“Nobody come to church!” he repeated, when 
after some difficulty and much shouting the situation 
had been explained: “Well, ’tain’t likely there should 
be ! I’m told there’s a German bomb there; one of 
the dangerous sort for going off. Some men brought 
it yesterday in a motor car. Spies of the Kaiser, 
they were. It may explode any minute, they say, and 
wreck the church and everything near. The Green- 
woods next door locked up the house, and went to 
their aunt’s in the village. My daughter came over 
here asking me to go home with her, but I said I’d 


Concerns a Camera 115 

stay and risk it. At eighty-three one doesn’t care 
to move!” 

“Where is this bomb?” asked Mr. James. 

“In a pew nigh the old monument, so I’m told.” 
At this juncture Jack Cassidy, who when the church 
was first found to be locked had volunteered to run 
back to the Vicarage and fetch the Vicar’s own key, 
now arrived after a record sprint. 

“Give me a bucket of water, and I’ll go and 
investigate,” said Mr. James. 

He came out of the church in the course of a few 
minutes, holding in his hand — the old helmet! 

“This is the nearest approach to a bomb of any 
description that I’ve been able to discover,” he an- 
nounced. “I’m going to carry it to the village to 
convince the wiseacres there. Perhaps Stevens will 
pluck up courage to ring the bell for afternoon serv- 
ice. If not. I’ll ring it myself.” 

Winona’s share in the business might have re- 
mained concealed but for the indiscretion of Mamie, 
who by an incautious remark gave the show away 
entirely. 

“You little silly!” scolded Winona afterwards. 
“What possessed you to go and say anything at all? 
Mr. James will never forgive me! I could see it 
in his eye. And Mrs. James was ice itself! I’ve 
never felt so horrible in all my life. If you’d only 
had the sense to keep mum, they might never have 
found out. You kids are the most frightful nuisance ! 
If I’d had my choice given me when I was born, I 
wouldn’t have been an eldest sister.” 


CHAPTER IX 

The School Service Badge 

Settling down at Abbey Close after a month at 
Highfield was like transferring oneself from a noisy 
farmyard to the calm of the cloister. The house 
was so near to the Minster that it seemed pervaded 
by the quiet Cathedral atmosphere. When Winona 
drew up her blinds in the morning, the first sight that 
greeted her would be the grey old towers and carved 
pinnacles, exactly opposite, where the jackdaws were 
chattering, and the pigeons wheeling round, and the 
big clock was going through the chimes and striking 
the hour of seven. There was a particular gargoyle 
at the corner of the transept roof which appeared 
to be grinning at her across the road, as if some imp 
were imprisoned in the stone image, and were peep- 
ing out of its fantastic eyes. Winona had grown 
to love the Minster. She would go in whenever she 
had ten minutes to spare after school. The glorious 
arches and pillars, the carved choir stalls, the light 
falling through the splendid rich windows on to 
the marble pavement, all appealed to the artistic 
sense that was stirring in her, and gave her immense 
satisfaction. But even the beauty of the Cathedral 
was as nothing when the organ began to play. Mr. 
Holmes, the organist, was a great musician, and 
could manage his instrument with a wizard touch. 

ii6 


The School Service Badge 117 

In the afternoons, between four and five o’clock, 
he was wont to practice his voluntaries, and to lis- 
ten to these took Winona into a new world of 
sound. He was a disciple of the extreme modern 
school of music, and his interpretations of Debussy, 
Cesar Franck, Medtner and Glazounow came to her 
as a revelation. The glorious weird harmonies, the 
strange, unaccustomed chords of these tone-poems 
stirred her like the memory of something long for- 
gotten. As Anglo-Indians, whose knowledge of 
Hindustani faded with their childhood, yet start 
and thrill at the sound of the once familiar lan- 
guage, so this dream-music brought haunting elusive 
suggestions too subtle to be defined. It held a dis- 
tinct part in Winona’s development. 

The girl was growing up suddenly. In the almost 
nursery atmosphere of Highfield, with nothing to 
stimulate her faculties she had remained at a very 
childish stage, but now, with a world of art, music, 
science and literature dawning round her she seemed 
to leap upward to the level of her new intellectual 
horizon. It is a glorious time when we first begin 
to reap the inheritance of the ages, and to discover 
the rich stores of delight that master minds have 
laid up for us to enjoy. Life was moving very 
fast to Winona ; she could not analyze all her fresh 
thoughts and impressions, but she felt she could no 
more go back to her last year’s mental outlook than 
she could have worn the long clothes of her baby- 
hood. She was sixteen now, for her birthday fell 
on the 20th of January. Somehow sixteen sounded 
so infinitely older than fifteen ! There was a dignity 


ii8 The Luckiest Girl in School 

about it and a sense of importance. In another year 
she would actually be “sweet seventeen,” and a mem- 
ber of that enviable school hierarchy the Sixth 
Form I 

Winona could have made herself thoroughly 
happy at Abbey Close but for the shadow that ex- 
isted between herself and Aunt Harriet. Percy’s 
secret was a perpetual burden on her conscience. 
At meal times she would often find her eyes wan- 
dering towards the oak cupboard, and would start 
guiltily, hoping Miss Beach had not noticed. The 
more she thought about the subject the more con- 
vinced she became that she ought to give some hint 
of the state of affairs, though how to do so with- 
out implicating her brother was at present beyond 
her calculations. One day, however, a really hope- 
ful opportunity seemed to arise. A case of a dis- 
puted will was being tried at the Seaton Sessions; 
the defendants were friends of Miss Beach’s, and 
after reading the account of the proceedings. Aunt 
Harriet laid down the local paper with a few com- 
ments. 

“I suppose people ought to make their wills very 
fast and firm,” said Winona. It was seldom she 
ventured on an independent remark. As a rule she 
left her aunt to do the talking. 

“Undoubtedly. Nothing causes more trouble than 
carelessness in this respect.” 

“Ought we all to make wills?” 

“If we have anything to leave it’s advisable.” 

“Ought I?” 

“Well, hardly at present, I should say!” 


The School Service Badge 119 

“Ought mother?” Winona was growing redder 
and redder. 

“No doubt she has done so.” 

“Have you made yours, Aunt Harriet?” 

The horrible deed was done, and Winona, crim- 
son to the roots of her hair, felt she had, metaphori- 
cally speaking, burnt her boats. 

Miss Beach stared at her as if electrified. 

“What do you want to know for?” she asked, 
suspiciously. “I think that’s decidedly my business 
and not yours!” 

Winona collapsed utterly, and murmuring some- 
thing about preparation, fled to her bedroom. 

“There! I’ve just gone and put my foot in it 
altogether!” she groaned. “I’ve no tact! I went 
and blurted it out like an idiot. She’ll never forgive 
me! Oh, why can’t I go and tell her the whole 
business, and then she’d understand ! I do hate this 
sneaking work. Percy, you wretched boy. I’d like 
to bump your head against the wall! It’s too bad 
to land me in your scrape ! Well, I suppose it can’t 
be helped. I’ve said it, and it’s done. But I know 
I’ll be in disgrace for evermore.” 

Certainly Aunt Harriet’s manner towards Wi- 
nona, after this unfortunate episode, was stilier than 
formerly. She was perfectly kind, but the gulf be- 
tween them had widened. They still discussed con- 
ventional topics at meal-times, or rather Miss Beach 
made leading remarks and Winona said “Yes,” or 
“No,” for such a one-sided conversation could 
hardly be termed discussion. The girl felt it a 
relief when, as often happened, her aunt took refuge 


120 ' 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

in a book. Occasionally Winona would pluck up 
courage to relate news from her home letters, but 
of her school life and all her new impressions and 
interests she scarcely spoke at all. Judging from 
the children’s correspondence the new governess at 
Highfield, after a stormy beginning, was making 
some Impressions upon her wild little pupils. 

“I hated her at first,” wrote Mamie, “but she 
tells us the most lovely fairy tales, and we’re learn- 
ing to model In clay. I like it because It makes such 
a mess. Ernie smacked her yesterday, and she 
wouldn’t let him do his painting till he’d said he 
was sorry.” 

Winona laughed over the letters, picturing the 
lively scenes that must be taking place at home. 

“Do the kids a world of good!” she commented. 
“They were running to seed. Even I could see that, 
as long ago as last summer, and I don’t mind con- 
fessing, quite to myself, that I was fairly raw then. 
I didn’t know very much about anything till I came 
to the ‘Seaton High.’ ” 

Winona’s second term was running far more 
smoothly than her first. Thanks to Miss Lever’s 
coaching she could now hold her own in her Form, 
and though she might not be the most shining light, 
at any rate she was not numbered among the slackers. 

Her progress was marked in more quarters than 
she suspected. Margaret Howell had had the Schol- 
arship winners under observation ever since their 
arrival. As head girl she made it her business to 
know something about every girl In the school. 
“The General,” as she was nicknamed, was univer- 


I2I 


The School Service Badge 

sally voted a success. She and Kirsty Paterson be- 
tween them had organized a new era of things. 
Every one felt the “Seaton High” was waking up 
and beginning to found a reputation for itself. The 
various guilds and societies were prospering, and 
following Margaret’s pet motto “Pro Bono Pub- 
lico,” had exterminated private quarrels and insti- 
tuted the most business-like proceedings and the 
strictest civility at committee meetings. Already the 
general tone was raised immeasurably, and public 
spirit and school patriotism ran high. To encourage 
zeal and strenuousness, Margaret and Kirsty had 
laid their heads together and decided to found what 
they called “The Order of Distinguished School 
Service.” Any girl who was considered to have per- 
formed some action worthy of special commenda- 
tion or who had otherwise contributed to the gen- 
eral benefit, was to be rewarded with a badge, and 
her name was to be chronicled in a book kept for 
the purpose. 

The very first to gain the honor was little Daisy 
Hicks, a Second Form child, who won 9,400 marks 
out of a possible' 10,000 in the Christmas exams, 
so far the highest score known in the school. Agnes 
Heath, who wrung special praise from the doctor 
who conducted the Ambulance examination, and 
Gladys Vickers, whose photograph of the hockey 
team was published in the Seaton W eekly Graphic, 
were also placed upon the distinguished list, having 
substantially helped the credit of the school. The 
badge was only a rosette made of narrow ribbons, 
stitched in tiny loops into the form of a daisy, with 


122 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

a yellow disk, and white and pink outer rays. It 
meant very much, however, to the recipient, who 
knew that her name would be handed down to pos- 
terity in the school traditions, and every girl was 
immensely keen to earn it. 

A new institution in the school this term was the 
foundation of a library. It had been a pet project 
of Margaret’s ever since her appointment as head 
prefect. Just before the Christmas breaking up she 
had called a general meeting and begged everybody 
after the holidays to present at least one contribu- 
tion. 

“It may be a new book or an old one,” she had 
explained, “but it must be really interesting. Please 
don’t bring rubbish. Give something you would 
enjoy reading yourself and can recommend to your 
friends.” 

The response to her appeal had been greater than 
she anticipated. Nobody failed to comply, and some 
of the girls brought several books apiece. A start 
was made with three hundred and forty-one volumes, 
which was regarded as a most creditable beginning. 
For the present they were piled up in the prefects’ 
room until shelves had been made to receive them. 
Miss Bishop had given the order to the joiner, but 
owing to the war it might be some time before the 
work was finished. 

Meanwhile Margaret decided that the books 
ought to be catalogued and labeled, so that they 
would be quite ready when the bookcases arrived. 
She cast about for helpers in this rather arduous 
task, and her choice fell upon Winona, who hap- 


The School Service Badge 123 

pened to have a spare half-hour between her classes 
on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Winona, 
immensely flattered, accepted the responsibility with 
glee, and was put to work under the “General’s” 
directions. She thoroughly enjoyed sorting, dust- 
ing, pasting on labels, and making alphabetical lists. 

“I shouldn’t mind being a librarian some day in a 
big public library,” she assured Ellinor Cooper, her 
fellow-assistant. 

“You’d have to be quicker than you are at present, 
then,” remarked Margaret dryly. “They wouldn’t 
think you worth your salt if you spent all your time 
reading the books. Buck up, can’t you ? and get on !” 

At which Winona guiltily shut “Shirley” with a 
bang and turned her attention to the paste-pot. 

While Margaret was cultivating the intellectual 
side of the school, Kirsty was carefully attending to 
her duties as Games Captain. Her work among the 
juniors prospered exceedingly. They were taking 
to hockey with wild enthusiasm and gave evidence 
of considerable promise. As most of them were free 
at three o’clock, they got the chance of playing 
almost every day. Kirsty was extremely anxious 
that these practices should be properly supervised. 
She was too busy herself to take them personally, 
so she was obliged to delegate the work to anybody 
who had the spare time. 

“The girls I want most are all at classes or music 
lessons,” she lamented. “Not a single one of the 
team’s available. Winona Woodward, I’ve been 
looking at your time-table, and find you’ve two 
vacant half-hours. Wouldn’t you like to help?” 


124 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“Like I I’d sell my birthright to do it!” gasped 
Winona. “But I’m fearfully sorry; I’m cataloguing 
for Margaret!” 

“Then I mustn’t take you away from the Gen- 
eral! It’s a nuisance though, for you’d have done 
very well, and I don’t know who else I can get.” 

Winona considered it was one of the sharpest dis- 
appointments she had ever gone through. 

“Oh, the grizzly bad luck of it!” she wailed to 
Garnet. “It would have been idyllic to coach those 
kids. And it would have given me such a leg up 
with Kirsty! To think I’ve lost my chance!” 

“I suppose Margaret might get some one else to 
do cataloguing?” 

“I dare say: but I couldn’t possibly ask her, and 
I’m sure Kirsty won’t. No, I’m done for!” 

School etiquette is very strict, and Winona would 
have perished sooner than resign her library duties. 
She felt a martyr, but resolved to smile through it 
all. Garnet contemplated the problem at leisure 
during her drawing lesson, and arrived at a daring 
conclusion. Without consulting her friend she 
marched off at four o’clock to the prefects’ room, 
a little sanctum on the ground floor where the min- 
utes books of the various guilds and societies were 
kept, and where the school officers could hold meet- 
ings and transact business. 

As she expected, Margaret was there alone, and 
said “Come in” in answer to her rap at the door. 
The members of the Sixth kept much on their dig- 
nity, so it was rather a formidable undertaking even 
for a Fifth Form girl to interrupt the head of the 


The School Service Badge 125 

school. Margaret looked up inquiringly as Garnet 
entered. 

“Yes, I’m fearfully busy,” she replied to the mur- 
mured question, “What is it? I can give you five 
minutes, but no more, so please be brief.” 

Thus urged, Garnet, though greatly embarrassed, 
did not beat about the bush. 

“I’ve come to ask a frightfully cheeky thing,” 
she blurted out. “Kirsty wants Winona to coach 
the kids at hockey, and Winona’s cataloguing for 

you, so of course she can’t — and ” but here 

Garnet’s courage failed her, so she paused. 

“Do you mean that Winona would prefer to help 
with the juniors?” 

“She’d be torn in pieces rather than let me say 
so, but she’s just crazy over hockey. I hope I 
haven’t made any mischief! Win doesn’t know I’ve 
come,” 

“All right. I understand. I’ll see what can be 
done in the matter,” returned the General, opening 
her books as a sign of dismissal. 

Gdrnet was not at all sure whether her mission 
had succeeded or the reverse, but the next day Mar- 
garet sent for Winona. 

“I hear Kirsty wants you for a hockey coach. 
Just at present I think games are of more impor- 
tance in the school than the library, so please report 
yourself to her, and say I’ve taken your name off my 
list. You’ve done very well here, but I’m going to 
lend you to Kirsty for a while.” 

Winona was so astounded she hardly knew 
whether to stammer out apologies, gratitude, or re- 


126 The Luckiest Girl in School 

grets, and was intensely relieved when the head girl 
cut her short kindly but firmly, and sent her away. 
She lost no time in seeking out the Games Cap- 
tain. 

“Very decent of Margaret,” remarked Kirsty. 
“It’s got me out of a hole, for I couldn’t find any- 
body else with that special time free. Ton’ll do 
your best I know?” 

‘*Ratherr beamed Winona ecstatically. 

Under her tuition the children’s play improved 
fast. Kirsty said little — she was not given to over- 
praising people — but Winona felt she noticed and 
approved. 

Among the season’s fixtures perhaps the most 
important was the match with the Seaton Ladies’ 
Hockey Club that was to come off on March 7th. 
Their opponents possessed a fair reputation in the 
city, so it would behove the school to “play up for 
all they were worth,” as Kirsty expressed it. It 
would be a glorious opportunity of showing their 
capabilities to the world at large, and demonstrating 
that they meant to take their due place in local 
athletics. 

Three days before the event, Kirsty appeared in 
the morning with the air of a tragedy queen. 

“What’s the matter?” queried Patricia. “You’ve 
a face as long as a fiddle !” 

“Matter enough I Barbara Jennings is laid up 
with influenza! What’ll become of the match I 
don’t know. It makes me feel rocky. Where’s 
Margaret? I want to confab. Did you ever hear 
of such grizzly luck in your life?” 


The School Service Badge 127 

At five minutes past eleven, when Winona was 
eating her lunch in the gymnasium, Kirsty tapped 
her on the shoulder. 

“I’ve something to tell you, Winona Woodward. 
You’re to play for the School on Saturday instead 
of Barbara.” 

Winona swallowed a piece of biscuit with fool- 
hardy haste. She could scarcely believe the news, 
so great was its magnitude. To be asked to fill a 
vacant place in the team was beyond her wildest 
dreams. 

“Thanks most immensely!** she stammered, with 
her eyes shining like stars. 

Through the next few days Winona simply lived 
for Saturday. To be able to represent the School! 
The glorious thought was never for a moment ab- 
sent from her mind. She even ventured to tell 
Aunt Harriet the honor that had been thrust upon 
her, and was astonished at the interest with which 
her information was received. 

On the Saturday afternoon the High School turned 
up almost in full force to view the match; juniors 
were keen as seniors, and the children whom Winona 
had coached were wild with excitement. The field 
was packed with spectators, for the Ladies’ Club had 
brought many friends. It was even rumored that a 
reporter from the Seaton Weekly Graphic was pres- 
ent. The High School team in navy blue gjnnnasium 
costumes, bare heads and close-plaited pigtails, 
looked neat and trim and very business-like. “A 
much fitter set than we showed last year!” mur- 
mured Margaret with satisfaction. All eyes were 


128 The Luckiest Girl in School 

riveted on the field as the two opponents stood out 
to “bully” and the sticks first clashed together. 
Winona, her face aglow with excitement, waited a 
chance to run. A little later her opportunity came : 
she dashed into the masses of the opponents’ force, 
and with one magnificent stroke swept the ball well 
onward towards the goal. 

“Oh! how precious!” shouted the girls. 

Nobody had imagined Winona capable of such a 
feat. She at once became the focus of all eyes. It 
had not occurred to the High School that there was 
a real possibility of their winning the match. They 
had expected to make a gallant fight and be defeated, 
retiring with all the honors of war. Perhaps the 
Ladies’ Club team, who had come to the field secure 
of victory, began to feel pangs of uneasiness under 
their white jerseys. The situation was supreme. 
The score had become even. Could the School pos- 
sibly do it? That was the question. All looked to 
Winona for the answer. She was playing like one 
Inspired. She had not realized her own capacities 
before: the wild excitement of the moment seemed 
to lend wings to her feet and strength and skill to 
her arm. One heroic, never-to-be-forgotten stroke, 
and the ball was spinning between the posts. It was 
a magnificent finish. Frantic applause rose up from 
the spectators. The High School cheered its cham- 
pions in a glorious roar of victory. The Ladles’ 
Club team were magnanimous enough to offer con- 
gratulations, and their captain shook hands with 
Winona. 

“Glad to see how your standard’s gone up !” she 


The School Service Badge 129 

remarked to Kirsty aside. “That half-back of yours 
is worth her salt!” 

Kirsty was literally purring with satisfaction. 
Last year the High School had been badly beaten 
in more than half its matches. This was indeed a 
new page in its records. 

On Monday morning Winona received a message 
summoning her to the prefects’ room. She found 
Margaret, Kirsty, and the other school officers as- 
sembled there. 

“Winona Woodward,” said the head girl, “we 
have decided to present you with the School Service 
Badge, in recognition of your play on Saturday. It 
is felt that you really secured the match, and as this 
is our first great victory we consider you deserve 
to have it recorded in your favor. Your name has 
been entered in the book. Come here 1” 

Winona turned crimson as Margaret pinned the 
daisy badge on to her blouse. 

“I — I’ve been only too proud to do what I can I” 
she blurted out. “Thanks most awfully T* 


CHAPTER X 

A Scare 

The Spring Term came to a close with a very 
fair number of hockey successes to be placed to the 
credit of the Seaton High School. Compared with 
last year’s record it was indeed a great improve- 
ment, and Kirsty felt that though they had not yet 
established a games reputation, they at any rate 
showed good promise of future achievements. She 
hoped to do much in the cricket and tennis season, 
though she certainly acknowledged there was much 
to be done. The cricket so far had been such a 
half-hearted business that she doubted the advisa- 
bility of making any fixtures. 

“I believe we’d just better train up for all we’re 
worth,” she said at the committee meeting. “It’ll 
take ages to lick an eleven into shape. What we 
want is to get a cricket atmosphere into the school. 
You can’t develop these things all in a few weeks. 
You’ve got to catch your kids young and teach them, 
before you get a school with a reputation. I feel 
with all the games that we’re simply building founda- 
tions at present at the Seaton High. This term 
especially is spade-work. I’ll do all I can to get 
things going, but it will be the Games Captain 
who comes after me who’ll reap the reward.” 

“Can’t you stay on another year?” suggested 
Patricia. 


130 


A Scare 


131 

“Wish I could for some things, but it’s impossible. 
No, I’ll do my bit this term, and then hand over the 
job to my successor. As I said before, what we 
want now is a good start.” 

Kirsty was a capital organizer. She soon recog- 
nized a girl’s capacities, and she had a knack of 
inspiring enthusiasm even in apparent slackers. She 
worked thoroughly hard herself, and insisted that 
everybody else did the same. Her motto for the 
term was the athletic education of the rank and 
file. It was really very self-sacrificing of her, for 
she might have gained far more credit by concen- 
trating her energies on a few, but for the ultimate 
good of the school it was undoubtedly far and away 
the best policy to pursue. The training of a num- 
ber of recruits may not be as interesting as the 
polishing up of champions, but in time recruits be- 
come veterans, and a school in which the standard 
of the ordinary play is very high has a better gen- 
eral chance than one that depends on an occasional 
solitary star. So even the little girls were strictly 
supervised in their practices, and both cricket and 
tennis showed healthy development. 

The Governors and the head mistress were anx- 
ious that the games department should prosper, and 
gave every encouragement. There were a larger 
number of tennis courts provided than fall to the 
share of most schools, and each form had its allotted 
times for play. Athletics were indeed compulsory, 
every girl being required to take her due part, un- 
less she were excused by a medical certificate. 

Winona worked with the utmost enthusiasm. As 


132 The Luckiest Girl in School 

a Fifth Form girl she had, of course, to be rather 
humble towards the Sixth, but she felt that Kirsty 
approved of her. It was never Kirsty’s way to 
praise, and she could be scathing in her remarks 
sometimes, but Winona did not mind criticism from 
her captain, and acted so well on all the advice given 
that she was making rapid strides. In pursuance 
of Kirsty’s all-round training policy, she was not 
allowed to specialize in either tennis or cricket this 
summer, but to give equal energy to both. So she 
practiced bowling under Hester King’s careful su- 
pervision, and played exciting sets while Clarice 
Nixon stood by to watch and score. 

The games appealed to Winona more than any 
other part of the school curriculum. She did fairly 
well now in her Form work, but she knew she could 
never be clever like Garnet, and that it was ex- 
tremely unlikely that she would win laurels on her 
books. She had promised Miss Bishop that she 
would try to do credit to the school in return for 
her scholarship, and to help to raise its athletic 
reputation seemed'her most feasible method of suc- 
cess. 

“I could never get a College Scholarship, how- 
ever I tried,” she thought, “but — I won’t say it’s 
probable, but it’s just possible that I might do some- 
thing some day in the way of winning matches. 
Miss Bishop would be pleased at that!” 

The early summer was delightful at Seaton. The 
park opposite the school was full of tulips and 
hyacinths, and the long avenue of trees in the Abbey 
Close had burst into tender green foliage. Winona 


A Scare 133 

studied her home lessons sitting by her open bed- 
room window with a leafy bower outside, and an 
accompaniment of jackdaws cawing in the old towers 
of the Minster. She loved this window and the 
prospect from it. There was a romantic, old-world 
flavor about the gray pile opposite, its carvings and 
cloisters and chiming bells seemed so peaceful and 
so far removed from modern trouble. Sometimes 
indeed the whirr of a biplane would disturb the 
quiet as an airman flittered like a great dragon-fly 
over the city, reminding her that medieval times 
were past; while a bugle call from the neighboring 
barracks emphasized the fact that the world was 
at war. Not that Winona was likely to forget that! 
Every day in school the Peace Bell prayer was read 
at noon, and she might see regiments of recruits 
marching up or down the High Street on their way 
to their training grounds. Nearly every girl in V.A. 
had some relation at the front, and though Winona 
could not boast of anybody nearer than a third 
cousin serving “somewhere in France,” she looked 
for news as eagerly as the rest. 

“It must be glorious to get letters from the 
trenches,” she said half wistfully one day to Beatrice 
Howell, who was exulting over a pencil scrawl 
written by her brother in a dug-out. “I half 
wish ” 

“No, you don’t !” snapped Beatrice. “It’s a night- 
mare to have them in the firing line I Be thankful 
your brother’s still safe at school.” 

On the subject of Percy, Winona was far from 
easy. He had let fall one or two hints during the 


134 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Easter holidays which confirmed her previous sus- 
picion that he had got into a wrong set at Long- 
[worth College. He had written to her twice already 
this term, wanting to borrow money, and suggest- 
ing that, without mentioning his name, she should 
ask Miss Beach to lend it to her. With such a re- 
quest, however, Winona had utterly refused to com- 
ply. 

“Aunt Harriet has been so decent to us I can’t 
begin to sponge on her,” she wrote back. “Besides, 
she’d want to know what I wanted such a lot for, 
and then all the mischief would be out!” 

Apparently Percy was offended, for his usual 
weekly letter did not appear. Winona only laughed, 
expecting he would soon get over his fit of sulks. 
She was utterly unprepared for the sequel. One day 
she received a note from him written on Y. M. C. A. 
paper and headed “Horminster.” It ran thus: 

“Dear Win, — I’d got into such an altogether 
grizzly hole that there was only one way out, and 
I’ve taken it. I am at present a member of His 
Majesty’s Forces, and if you want to write to me 
address: Private P. D. Woodward, 17th Battalion, 
Royal Rytonshire Fusiliers, Horminster. 

“Your affectionate brother, 

“Percy.” 

“P.S. — You can tell the mater if you like.” 

Winona, in a great state of excitement, showed 
the note to Aunt Harriet, who telegraphed the in- 
formation to Mrs. Woodward. Jhe latter had just 


A Scare :i35 

heard from Percy’s housemaster of his disappear- 
ance, and was greatly relieved to have news of his 
whereabouts. The runaway was below military age, 
and his mother’s first impulse was to apply for his 
immediate discharge. But from this course her best 
friends dissuaded her. The headmaster of Long- 
worth College and Mr. Joynson, her trustee, were 
unanimous in counseling her to leave the boy alone, 
and Aunt Harriet cordially agreed with them. 

“Let the lad serve his country!” she wrote to her 
niece. “He is tall for his age, and if the Military 
Authorities have accepted him, well and good. It 
seems to me the one thing in the world that is likely 
to steady him and give him that sense of responsi- 
bility that hitherto he has so signally lacked. You 
will make the mistake of your life if you keep him 
back now.” 

It seemed funny to Winona to imagine Percy, so 
young and boyish, actually in His Majesty’s uni- 
form. He had not yet got his khaki, but he prom- 
ised to have a photo taken as soon as ever he was 
in military garb, and she looked forward to showing 
the portrait of her soldier brother to the girls in 
her Form. She began a pair of socks for him at 
once. I regret to say that Winona’s patriotic knit- 
ting had languished very much during the last two 
terms, but this personal stimulus revived her ardor. 
She even took her sock to the tennis court, and, 
emulating the example of Patricia Marshall and 
several other enthusiasts, got quite good pieces done 
between the sets. She would have taken it to cricket 
also, but Kirsty had sternly made a by-law prohib- 


136 The Luckiest Girl in School 

iting all knitting on the pitch since Elllnor Cooper, 
when supposed to be fielding, had surreptitiously 
taken her work from her pocket and missed the 
best catch of the afternoon, to her everlasting dis- 
grace and the scorn of the Indignant Games Captain. 

KIrsty was keen at present upon each Form hav- 
ing Its own Eleven, and had arranged some school 
matches as trials of skill. The first of these. Sixth v. 
Fifth, was fixed for the following Saturday after- 
noon. Winona, to her ecstatic and delirious delight, 
had been elected captain of the combined V.A. and 
V.B. Eleven, and she was looking forward to the 
contest as one of the events of her life. She was 
aware that on Its success or failure might hang much 
of her future athletic career at school, and she was 
determined to show of what stuff she was made. 
She urged her team to make heroic efforts, and got 
all the practice In that was available. On the Thurs- 
day afternoon she gave everybody a final drilling. 
On Friday the pitch would be the property of the 
Lower School, so this was the last opportunity of 
play before the match. 

“If any of you muff the ball or do anything stupid. 
I’ll never forgive you!” she assured her Eleven. 
“The Sixth are 'Ai at fielding, so for goodness’ sake 
don’t disgrace our Form. Beware of Patricia’s 
bowling. It looks simple, but It’s the nastiest I 
know. I’d rather have KIrsty’s any day, because 
at least you know what to expect from her, and 
you’re on your guard. Don’t try to be clever too 
soon; it’s better not to score at all during the first 


A Scare 


137 

over than to run any risks. Evelyn, you were a 
mascot to-day! I hope you’ll play up equally well 
on Saturday. By the by, Joyce, I really can’t com- 
pliment you on your innings. What were you think- 
ing of to make that idiotic blind swipe?” 

“I don’t know!” returned Joyce dolefully. (She 
was sitting on the fence looking decidedly crest- 
fallen.) “I’m afraid I’m rather rocky to-day, some- 
how.” 

“Got nerves? Girl alive! Do brace up!” 

“No, it’s not nerves. My head’s been aching all 
the week, and I’ve a pain across my chest, and I 
keep shivering. I suppose I must have caught cold. 
It’ll be a grizzly nuisance if I can’t play on Satur- 
day!” 

“You must play!” urged Winona. “We’ve got 
to beat the Sixth or perish in the attempt! You go 
home at once, and get some hot tea, and go to bed 
afterwards if you don’t feel better. You may stop 
in bed all to-morrow if it’ll do you good !” 

“Thank you. Grannie! Perhaps I will go home 
now. I really am feeling rather queer.” 

“She looks queer, too,” said Bessie Kirk to 
Winona, as they stood watching Joyce’s retreating 
figure. “I thought she was going to faint a while 
ago. It’ll be a hideous nuisance if she has to be 
out of it.” 

“Our best bowler! It’s unthinkable!” groaned 
Winona. 

“It’s hard luck, but I’m certain Joyce won’t play 
on Saturday,” said Mary Payne. 


138 The Luckiest Girl in School 

The team was feeling rather down at the prospect. 

“We may throw up the sponge if Joyce is off I” 
mourned Olave Parry. 

“Shut up, you blue-bottle !” snapped Winona, de- 
cidedly out of temper. “Joyce may be absolutely 
well again by Saturday, and if she isn’t Marjorie 
Kemp must take her place. Do be sporting! You’ll 
never win if you make up your mind beforehand that 
you’re going to lose 1” 

When Winona walked into V.A. on the following 
morning she looked anxiously in the direction of 
Joyce’s desk, but the familiar check dress and amber 
pigtail were not to be seen. Little groups of girls 
were standing in clusters, talking in apparent con- 
sternation. 

“Well! Have you heard the news?” asked 
Garnet, stepping forward to meet her friend. 

“No. What’s the damage? You’re looking very 
down in the dumps!” 

“Joyce Newton has developed small-pox!” 

“Nonsense !” exploded Winona. 

“It’s perfectly true,” said Garnet, with severe 
dignity in her voice. “One only wishes for Joyce’s 
sake that it wasn’t! The news has only just come. 
Helena Maitland knows about it. She lives next 
door, and saw the doctor’s car at the Newtons’ gate 
this morning.” 

“I told you Joyce looked queer yesterday!” said 
Bessie Kirk.. 

“Suppose we all catch it!” shuddered Freda Long. 

“Don’t! It’s too horrible!” 

There was a feeling of utter consternation among 


A Scare 139 

the girls as the bad news was discussed. They won- 
dered what was going to happen. 

“Miss Bishop is telephoning to the Medical Offi- 
cer of Health,” volunteered Olave Parry, who had 
been downstairs to seek fresh information. 

Just then Miss Huntley came into the room, 
though it was not yet nine o’clock. She went at 
once to her desk and took the call over. 

“What’s going to happen about Joyce?” one or 
two of the girls ventured to ask her. 

“I don’t know yet. I expect we shall all be put 
into quarantine. Miss Bishop is making arrange- 
ments. In the meantime we will go on with our 
work.” 

It was wise of Miss Huntley to begin the English 
Language lesson, for though every one was of course 
very abstracted, it gave some ostensible occupation. 
Before the hour was over Miss Bishop sailed into 
the room. She looked pale and anxious, but spoke 
with her usual calm dignity. 

“Girls,” she announced, “you have heard of the 
very difficult situation in which the school is placed. 
I have rung up Dr. Barnes, the Medical Officer of 
Health, and he tells me that the whole of V.A. must 
be regarded as ‘contact cases.’ That means that as 
Joyce has been amongst you, it is possible for any 
of you to develop the disease. In order to avoid 
the spread of infection throughout the city, you will 
have to be most carefully kept apart. I have sent 
all the other girls home, and you will stay at the 
school during to-day. Dr. Barnes is coming this 
morning to re-vaccinate you, and this afternoon you 


140 The Luckiest Girl in School 

are to be taken to the Camp at Dlinheath, where you 
will stay until the period of quarantine is over. Go 
home? Most certainly not! No girl is to leave the 
school on any pretext whatever. I am communicat- 
ing with your home people and requesting that they 
send you a few necessary things to take to the camp, 
but no personal interviews can be allowed. Dr. 
Barnes’ orders are most emphatic. You need not 
be alarmed, for if you are all re-vaccinated it is 
highly improbable that you will be infected, and I 
think you will all enjoy yourselves at Dunheath.” 

When the Principal had gone the girls clustered 
round Miss Huntley to discuss the situation. 

“Yes, of course I’m going with you,” said the 
mistress. “I’m a contact case as much as anybody 
else! Miss Bishop tells me that Dr. Barnes will 
send a hospital nurse with us. It’s a nuisance to be 
in quarantine, but it will be beautiful out in the 
country just now, and we’ll manage to enjoy our- 
selves.” 

The girls took the matter in various fashions 
according to their respective temperaments. Some 
were nervous, while others regarded it as a joke. 
The latter rallied their more timorous companions 
with scant mercy. 

“Oh, buck up, you sillies !” said Marjorie Kemp, 
to the tearful plaints of Agatha James and Irene 
Mills. “Vaccination doesn’t hurt! It’s nothing but 
a scratch. You might be going to have your arms 
cut off. For goodness’ sake show some pluck! 
Suppose you were in the trenches? The Camp will 
be just topping. We’ll have the time of our lives !” 


A Scare :i4i 

“If we don’t break out in spots!” wailed Irene. 

“Well, wait till you do before you make a fuss. 
[You’re far more likely to catch a thing if you’re 
afraid of it.” 

“Oh, I say !” said Winona, suddenly remembering 
Saturday’s event. “The match to-morrow will be 
all off!” 

“Hold me up ! So it will ! What a grizzly nui- 
sance ! Oh, the hard luck of it !” 

“Well, it can’t be helped! We must play the 
Sixth later on.” 

“Kirsty’ll be as savage as we are!” 

“Poor old Joyce, she’s responsible for a good deal 
of damage!” 

The rest of the day passed in an extraordinary 
fashion. V.A. had the whole of the school premises 
absolutely and entirely to itself. The Fourth Form 
room was turned into a tempbrary surgery, and Dr. 
Barnes installed himself there with tubes of vaccine 
and packets of new darning needles. Each girl in 
turn went first to Miss Bishop and had her arm 
thoroughly sterilized with boiled water and boracic 
lotion, and was then passed on to the medical officer 
for vaccination. The scratch with the needle really 
5did not hurt, and the little operations were soon 
over. Sixteen maidens walking about waiting for 
their arms to dry before re-donning their blouses 
made a rather comical sight. The giggles that en- 
sued raised the spirits of even Agatha and Irene. 

“Glad it was done on our left arms! I expect 
we sha’n’t be in much form for cricket after this, 
unless we play one-handed !” laughed Winona. “By 


142 The Luckiest Girl in School 

the by, will there be any field we can practice on 
out at the camp?” 

“I expect so,” returned Miss Huntley. “You had 
better make a collection of bats, balls and stumps 
and a few tennis rackets, and also your school books. 
Put them all together, and Miss Bishop will have 
them sent to us.” 

The girls hastened to sort out the necessary im- 
pedimenta for cricket and tennis, but arranged piles 
of books with less enthusiasm, the general opinion 
being that it was rather stiff to be expected to do 
work at the Camp. They were each allowed to take 
a book from the school library, and Miss Huntley 
added a pile of foolscap paper, pens and a big bottle 
of ink, which the girls devoutly hoped might get 
broken on the way and thus save them the labor 
of writing exercises. They had dinner and a four 
o’clock tea at school, after which meal Miss Bishop, 
who seemed to have spent most of the day at the 
telephone, announced that arrangements were now 
completed, and that they must get ready to start. 
Great was the excitement when at five o’clock a 
motor char-a-banc made its appearance. The six- 
teen “contacts” and Miss Huntley took their places, 
their hand-bags, which had been sent from their 
respective homes during the course of the day, were 
stowed away with the rest of their luggage inside 
a motor ’bus, and the company, feeling much more 
like a picnic party than possibly infected cases, drove 
merrily away for their period of quarantine. 


CHAPTER XI 


The Open-air Camp 

If this particular Friday had been an exciting day 
to the girls of V.A., it had certainly proved a most 
agitating one to the Medical Officer of Health for 
Seaton. Upon his energy and organization de- 
pended the prevention of a serious epidemic in the 
city, and he had shown himself admirably able to 
cope with the sudden emergency. The Corporation 
had lately set up a camp for children threatened 
with tuberculosis, and this was commandeered by 
Dr. Barnes as a suitable place for quarantine. It 
lay five miles away from Seaton, on the top of a 
hill In a very open situation in the midst of fields, 
so was excellently fitted for the purpose. The chil- 
dren under treatment there had been hurriedly taken 
back to their homes in Seaton, extra beds and sup- 
plies had been sent out, and a hospital nurse in- 
stalled in charge, so that all was in readiness when 
the char-a-banc arrived. 

The Camp consisted of a long wooden shelter or 
shed, the south side of which was entirely open to 
the air. The boarded floor was raised about three 
feet above the level of the field, and projected well 
beyond the roof line, thus forming a kind of terrace. 
Inside the shelter was a row of small beds, and a 
space was curtained off at either end, on one side 
143 


144 The Luckiest Girl in School 

for a kitchen and on the other to make a cubicle for 
Miss Huntley. Outside, under a large oak tree, 
stood a table and benches. Nothing could have 
been more absolutely plain and bare as regards fur- 
niture. The girls took possession, however, with 
the utmost enthusiasm. The idea of “living the 
simple life” appealed to them. Who wanted chairs 
and chests of drawers and wash-stands? It would 
be fun to sleep In the shelter, and spend the whole 
day out of doors. 

“It’s too topping for anything I” declared Mar- 
jorie Kemp, after a careful inspection of the prem- 
ises. “We shall have to keep all our things inside 
our bags, and wash in an enameled tin basin, and 
drink our tea out of mugs!” 

“It will be precious having meals under that tree 1” 
agreed Bessie Kirk. 

“What shall we do if It rains?” inquired Irene 
Mills. 

“Go to bed with hot bottles, like the children 
did,” replied Nurse Robinson. “They always 
thought that prime fun, so I expect you will too. 
You’ll soon get into the life here.” 

The view from the shelter was most beautiful. 
In the far away distance they could see the towers 
of Seaton Minster and the spires of the churches, 
while all around lay lush meadows, fields of growing 
corn, and woods in the glory of June foliage. The 
Camp stood in the corner of a very large pasture, 
with hedges all covered with lovely wild roses and 
tangles of honeysuckle, while a wood close by showed 
a tempting vista of pine trees. The fresh country 


The Open-air Camp 145 

air and the smell of flowers and pines were delicious. 

Life at the Camp was arranged according to a 
strict time-table. Every one rose at seven, and a 
certain number of volunteers helped to prepare 
breakfast. Then came bed-making, crockery wash- 
ing and potato peeling, at which duties the girls 
took turns. From 9.30 to 12.30 they had classes 
with Miss Huntley, while Nurse Robinson super- 
intended. the cooking of the dinner on the large oil 
stove. With the exception of an hour’s preparation 
the rest of the day was free from lessons. Tea 
was at four and supper at seven, and by half-past 
nine every one was in bed, well covered with 
blankets, and with a hot bottle if she liked, for the 
nights were apt to be chilly to those unaccustomed 
to sleeping in the open-air. The rules of quarantine 
were of course sternly kept. No girl might go out- 
side the pasture without special permission. Some- 
times Miss Huntley took her flock for a walk along 
quiet country roads and rambling by-lanes, but the 
vicinity of their fellow-creatures was carefully 
avoided. 

“We’re like the lepers in the Middle Ages I” 
laughed Garnet. “I feel as if I ought to wear a 
coarse white cassock, and ring a bell as I go about, 
to warn people to give me a wide berth!” 

“It’s amusing that the farmer has even driven 
his cows out of the pasture since we arrived,” saidi 
Evelyn. “He let them feed here while the tuber- 
culous children had their innings, and I should have 
thought consumption germs were as bad as small- 
pox ones.” 


[146 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“They weren’t real consumptives though, only 
threatened!” 

“Well, we’re not small-pox patients, either, only 
contacts!” 

“I’m sorry for those poor kids, sent suddenly 
back to their slum homes after being here for 
weeks,” said Jess Gardner. 

“Oh, the kids have had luck! There were only 
ten of them, and a lady at Hawberry has rigged up 
a tent in her garden, and has them all there, so 
Nurse told me this morning. They’re living on the 
fat of the land, and gaining pounds and pounds in 
weight, by the look of them.” 

“Good! I don’t feel so bad at having turned 
them out, then. It’s great here !” 

“Rather! On the whole, I feel thoroughly grate- 
ful to Joyce.” 

From the girls’ point of view there really was 
matter for congratulation. None of them was ill, 
and all were having a most delightful and quite un- 
expected three weeks’ holiday in Idyllic surround- 
ings. Their arms, to be sure, had “taken,” and were 
more or less sore, but that was a trifling inconveni- 
ence compared with the pleasures of living In Camp. 
There was no anxiety to be felt about Joyce, she 
had the disease very slightly, and was being treated 
with such extreme care that her face would not be 
marked afterwards. It was ascertained that she had 
caught the infection from some Belgians who had 
come over lately from Holland, and who were now 
isolated by Dr. Barnes in a Cottage Hospital. The 
Seaton High School was undergoing elaborate dis- 


The Open-air Camp 147 

Infection, and as June was well advanced, the Gov- 
ernors had decided not to re-open until September, 
when all possibility of contagion would have passed 
away. This was the only part of the proceedings 
that did not please the girls. 

“It’s rather sickening to have no end to the term,” 
groaned Marjorie. “Our matches are all off, and 
no swimming display or sports. It’s rough on Mar- 
garet and Kirsty particularly. Do you realize that 
w’hen we go back in September they’ll both have 
left? All the prefects are leaving.” 

“Oh, hard luck! Who’ll take their places?” 

“Some of our noble selves, I suppose, if we’re 
promoted to the Sixth.” 

“Who’ll be General and Games Captain?” 

“Ah ! Ask me a harder, my intelligent child.” 

“I think I could put my finger on one of them, 
at any rate.” 

“So could I, perhaps, but I don’t care to prophesy 
too soon,” sighed Bessie. 

Whoever might be destined to wear future laurels 
at school, Winona, as Captain of the V.A. team, 
assumed direction of the games at the Camp. Part 
of the pasture was sufficiently level to make quite a 
fair cricket pitch, while a piece In the opposite corner 
served as a tennis court. An old man from the farm 
was bribed to come and cut the grass with a scythe, 
but as no lawn-mower or roller was available, the 
result was decidedly rough. The tennis enthusiasts 
rigged up a tape In lieu of a net, and marked some 
courts with lime begged from the farmer. Their 
games, owing to the general bumpiness of the ground. 


148 The Luckiest Girl in School 

had at least the charm of variety and excitement, 
and four umpires had to keep careful and continual 
watch In order to decTde whether the balls went over 
or under the tape, which Indeed collapsed occasion- 
ally, as the poles were only sticks cut from the hedge. 

If the tennis was funny, the cricket was even fun- 
nier. Many of the girls could not use their left 
arms at all, consequently the batting was extraordi- 
nary, and sometimes the easiest catches were missed. 
It was very amusing, however, and perhaps for that 
reason provided more entertainment than the most 
strict and orthodox play under the critical eye of 
Kirsty might have done. 

Really the quarantine party had a most Idyllic 
time. In the warm June weather It was delightful 
to live out of doors. There were rosy-violet dawns 
and golden-red sunsets, and clear starry nights when 
the planet Venus shone like a lamp In the dark blue 
of the sky, and owls would fly hooting from the 
woods, and bats come flitting round the shelter in 
search of moths. One day. Indeed, was wet, but 
the girls sat or lay on their beds, and read or talked, 
and played games, with Intervals of exciting dashes 
in mackintoshes to fetch cans of water, or dishes 
from the larder. 

On Sundays there was of course no church-going, 
but Miss Huntley read morning prayers, and In the 
evening they sang hymns, each girl in turn choosing 
the one she liked best. “All things bright and beau- 
tiful,” “Nearer, my God, to Thee,” and “Now the 
day is over” were prime favorites, but perhaps the 
most popular of all was the ancient Hymn of St. 


The Open-air Camp 149 

Patrick, which Miss Huntley had copied from a book 
of Erse literature, and had adapted to an old Irish 
tune. The girls learnt it easily, and its fifth century 
Celtic mysticism fascinated them. They liked such 
bits as: 


“In light of sun, in gleam of snow 
Myself I bind ; 

In speed of lightning, in depth of sea 
In swiftness of wind. 

God’s Might to uphold me, 

God’s Wisdom to guide, 

God’s shield to protect me 
In desert and wild.” 

* * * 

“Christ with me, before me. 

Behind me and in me, 

0 Threeness in Oneness 

1 praise and adore Thee.” 

“In Ireland it is sometimes called the Shamrock 
Hymn,” said Miss Huntley, “because St. Patrick 
used the little green shamrock leaf to explain to the 
chiefs the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. The origi- 
nal is in a very ancient dialect of the Irish Celtic, 
and was preserved in an old manuscript book written 
on parchment. It always reminds me of the ‘Bene- 
dicite omnia opera’ of our prayer-book ; the thought 
is the same in both: ‘O ye spirits and souls of the 
righteous, bless ye the Lord’ is about the sum of 
It all.” 

Except for the trifling trouble of vaccination, the 
effects of which in most cases were soon over, the 


.150 The Luckiest Girl in School 

quarantine party enjoyed radiant health. Dr. Barnes 
came twice a week to inspect, and Nurse Robinson 
kept a vigilant watch for head-aches, back-aches, and 
sickness. None of these symptoms appeared, how- 
ever, and all began to congratulate themselves that 
the infection had been avoided. There was a burst 
of warm weather at the beginning of July, which 
made the hill breezes of Dunheath highly acceptable. 
It was too hot during the daytime to play active 
games; the girls lounged about under the shade of 
the trees, and read the illustrated papers with which 
they were kept plentifully supplied. 

“I’ve never really had time before to study the 
toilet hints,” said Beatrice Howell one afternoon, 
poring over a certain page headed “My Lady’s 
(Boudoir.” “It seems to me that we ought to take 
our complexions more seriously. We actually wash 
our faces with soap and water, and ‘Lady Veronica’ 
says here that that’s an absolutely suicidal practice 
for delicate skins. She gives all kinds of recipes 
for what one should do. I wish I could have a few 
lessons in face massage. I wonder how hard one 
ought to rub? And why a downward movement 
all the time?” (Beatrice was stroking her cheeks 
contemplatively as she spoke.) “Why mayn’t you 
rub upwards?” 

“The Princess recommends gentle pinching,” 
said Mollie Hill, who was studying the columns of a 
rival paper, “and then an application of Mrs. 
Courtenay’s lavender cream. We ought to be care- 
ful not to get freckled or sunburnt. ‘Lady Mar- 
jorie’ gives some splendid prescriptions against both. 


The Open-air Camp .151 

1 wonder how the papers always get the aristocracy 
to write their Beauty Hints? I shouldn’t have 
thought they’d have condescended to reveal their 
secrets !” 

“My good girl ! Don’t flatter yourself that either 
‘Lady Veronica’ or ‘Lady Marjorie’ is a member 
of the aristocracy,” chuckled Bessie Kirk. “They’re 
probably most plebeian and dowdy-looking individ- 
uals living in Bloomsbury boarding-houses, with 
pasty complexions and freckled noses, and they get 
a percentage on the preparations they recommend. 
If you notice, they always tell you to use Mrs. 
Somebody’s pomade or face cream, and it’s generally 
very expensive.” 

“Oh, but this one’s home-made!” declared 
Beatrice. “Look here! It says: ‘Take ah ounce 
of spermaceti, and melt it in a pan with a teacupful 
of rose water. When thoroughly mixed, add an 
ounce of Vodax, which may be obtained from any 
chemist, stir until quite cold, then put into pots.’ 
I’m sure that sounds simple enough, in all con- 
science.” 

“What about the Vodax, though? If you went 
to the chemist’s you’d find it is a patent preparation, 
and very expensive, and it would just knock the 
bottom out of the ‘home-made’ theory of the 
recipe.” 

“There must be something in all these hints, 
though,” said Mollie plaintively, “or the paper 
wouldn’t publish them every week.” 

“Well, perhaps there is, to a certain extent, but 
just think of the time it would take to carry them 


152 The Luckiest Girl in School 

out, to say nothing of the expense of cosmetics. 
Here, give me the book a sec., and a piece of pencil. 
I want to make a calculation. Now, if you really 
follow ‘Lady Marjorie’s’ advice, your day will run 
something like this. It’s a kind of beauty time- 
table : 


Face Massage, Morning .f. 

“ “ Evening . ... .1. 

Hair Drill, Morning 

“ “ Evening 

Application of cloths wrung out in hot water to 

face daily 

Breathing Exercises 

Physical “ 

Manicure 

Oatmeal applications 


.,10 minutes 
,10 “ 

,15 “ 

15 “ 


.30 
.15 
115 
. 5 
. 5 


(C 

(( 

U 

tt 

it 


Total 2 hours. 


Now, if you’re going to put in two hours every day 
at your toilet, it seems to me that you won’t have 
much time left for games, unless you can get your 
prep, excused on the ground that you’re studying 
beauty culture. I’d like to see Bunty’s face if you 
asked her!” 

“Don’t be piggish!” said Mollie. “One has no 
need to cultivate a tough skin, just because one’s 
fond of cricket and hockey. I hate to see girls with 
hard red cheeks and freckles.” 

It was certainly not possible to obtain Mrs. 
Courtenay’s lavender cream or any other toilet spe- 


The Open-air Camp 153 

cialties at the Camp. Beatrice and Mollie, however, 
impressed with the necessity of preserving their com- 
plexions, commandeered some of the buttermilk 
which was sent daily from the farm, and dabbed 
it plentifully over their faces before retiring to bed, 
following the application with massage to the best 
of their ability. They were emulated in these toilet 
rites by Agatha James, Mary Payne and Olave 
Parry, who also studied the beauty hints columns, 
and liked to try experiments. One day Agatha 
found an entirely new suggestion In a copy of “The 
Ladies’ Portfolio.” A correspondent wrote strongly 
advocating common salt as a hair tonic. It was 
to be rubbed in at night, and brushed out again in 
the morning. 

Apparently nothing could be more simple. Bea- 
trice, being on kitchen duty, had access to the salt- 
box. She purloined a good breakfastcupful, and 
divided the spoils with her four confederates. They 
all rubbed the salt carefully into the roots of their 
hair. Next morning, however, when they essayed 
to brush It out again. It obstinately refused to budge, 
and remained hard and gritty among their tresses. 
They were very much concerned. What was to be 
done? The only obvious remedy was to wash their 
hair. Now the one drawback of the Camp was its 
shortage of water. The daily supply had to be 
carried in buckets from the farm, and as, owing 
to the warm dry weather, the well was getting low, 
their allowance at present was rather small, and 
had to be carefully husbanded. The amount doled 
out for washing purposes certainly was quite Inade- 


154 The Luckiest Girl in School 

quate for the due rinsing of five plentiful heads of 
hair. 

“I suppose we shall just have to grin and bear it 
till we can get home and can mermaid properly in a 
bath!” sighed Mary. 

“Oh, I can’t! I’m going to wash mine somehow. 
Look here, suppose we sneak off quietly this after- 
noon, and go on a water hunt?” 

“There isn’t a stream or a pond anywhere near.” 

“We haven’t tried the wood!” 

“Well, we’re not allowed there, of course.” 

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t go. The young 
pheasants must be all hatched, and running about 
by this time, so what harm could we do? Besides 
which, nobody’s troubling about preserving game 
during the war. They’re shooting Germans instead 
of birds this year.” 

“Very likely the gamekeeper has enlisted,” sug- 
gested Beatrice, “in which case there’d be no one 
to stop us.” 

Now the strict law of the Camp confined the girls 
to the pasture, but as it was the last week of the 
quarantine, they were beginning to grow a little 
slack about rules. The five victims of the salt cure 
waited until Miss Huntley and Nurse Robinson were 
enjoying their afternoon siesta; then, without wait- 
ing for any permission, they climbed the fence into 
the lane, found a thin place in the hedge, and scram- 
bled into the wood. It was a thrillingly exciting 
experience. Rather scratched and panting, they sur- 
veyed the prospect. Trees were everywhere, with 


The Open-air Camp 155 

a thick undergrowth of bramble and bracken. Ap- 
parently there was no path at all. 

“I suppose we shall just have to wander about till 
we see a pond!” remarked Agatha. 

“I believe some people can find water with a 
forked hazel twig,” said Olave. “They hold it 
loosely in their hands, and it jerks when the water’s 
near. I wish I knew how to do it 1” 

“Oh, water-finders are occult people,” laughed 
Beatrice, “the sort that see spooks and do table- 
turning, you know. Besides, they find underground 
water, and tell where wells ought to be dug. We 
want a pond which any one can see with the naked 
eye, without being endowed with psychic powers. 
My natural reason tells me to go down hill, and 
perhaps we’ll strike it in a hollow.” 

The girls rambled on, thoroughly enjoying the 
coolness of the shade and the beauty of the wood. 
As Beatrice had prophesied, when they reached the 
foot of the incline they came across quite a good- 
sized pool, with reeds and iris growing on its banks. 
They rejoiced exceedingly. 

Now it is one thing to wash one’s hair in a bath 
or a basin, but quite another to perform that opera- 
tion in a pond with shallow muddy edges. The 
girls took off their shoes and stockings, tucked up 
their skirts and waded into the middle, where they 
made gallant efforts at dipping and rinsing their 
heads, and contrived to get uncommonly wet in the 
process. They wrung out their dripping tresses, 
mopped them with handkerchiefs (for nobody had 


156 The Luckiest Girl in School 

dared to take a towel), and spread them out over 
their shoulders to dry. There was an open glade 
close by, where they could squat in the sunshine, 
and let the breeze help the process. Mary had had 
the forethought to put a comb in her pocket and 
she lent it round in turns. They were sitting in a 
row, like five mermaids, extremely complacent and 
satisfied with themselves, when footsteps suddenly 
crashed through the wood, and a middle-aged man 
approached them. For once Beatrice’s calculations 
were wrong. The gamekeeper had not yet enlisted. 
No doubt he would have been far better employed 
in the trenches somewhere In France, but here he 
was, still in England, and looking extremely surly 
and truculent. 

“You’ve no business to be in this wood,” he be- 
gan. “Can’t you read the trespass notices? There’s 
plenty of them about. What do you mean by com- 
ing in here, disturbing the pheasants?” 

“We aren’t doing any harm!” protested Olave. 

“That’s neither here nor there. You’ve no busi- 
ness here, and you know it! Are you from that 
camp up the hill?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then take yourselves off at once — spreading 
small-pox !” 

“We’ve none of us had small-pox!” returned 
Beatrice indignantly. “We’ve told you we weren’t 
doing any harm. Still, if this will make things 

right ” and she slipped half-a-crown into his 

hand. 

The gamekeeper’s expression changed considera- 


The Open-air Camp 157 

bly, and his tone instantly became more respectful. 

“Well, young ladies, I have to do my duty, and 
of course you understand the pheasants mustn’t be 
disturbed anyhow. Perhaps you won’t mind going 
back to the Camp now. I’ll show you a path that 
will take you into the lane.’’ 

He led the way, and the girls followed in sub- 
dued silence, feeling rather crestfallen. Mollie was 
yearning to tell him that he ought to be doing his 
duty by his country instead of by the pheasants. 
If at that moment she could have found a white 
feather, I believe she would have presented it to 
him. The path ended in a small gate which he 
unlocked. He ushered them solemnly into the lane, 
pointed out a trespass notice that was nailed con- 
spicuously on to a tree, and then retired into the 
fastnesses of the wood. The girls decided that, 
unless actually compelled, they would not divulge 
where they had been. 

“It was a bit of hard luck to be caught I” giggled 
Olave. “Didn’t you feel queer when he came up ?” 

“I thought he was a beast, and didn’t deserve 
propitiating with a tip I” declared Agatha. 

“But we washed our hair !” rejoiced Mary, plait- 
ing her long dark pigtail. 


CHAPTER XII 

Captain Winona 

To the entire satisfaction of themselves, their 
relations, and Dr. Barnes, the girls passed safely 
through their period of quarantine, and were cer- 
tified as fit once more to take their places among 
the rest of the world. They left the Camp almost 
with regret. They had been such a jolly, merry 
party, and had enjoyed such high jinks there, that 
they felt their departure closed a pleasant episode. 
They were going straight home to holidays, how- 
ever, which was a very different matter from re- 
turning to work. The remainder of July and the 
month of August passed very swiftly to Winona. 
She missed Percy, who was in training with his 
regiment, but since the advent of their new gov- 
erness, Letty and Mamie had grown more sensible, 
and proved quite pleasant companions. Letty es- 
pecially seemed suddenly to have awakened, so far 
as her intellectual capacities were concerned. She 
had begun to devour Scott and Dickens, took a keen 
interest in nature study, and tried — sometimes with 
rather comical effect — to be extremely superior and 
grown-up. 

“She’s far cleverer really than I am,” thought 
Winona. “Pity she’s not at the Seaton High I 
158 


Captain Winona 159 

She’d be the star of her form directly. I wish she 
could get a scholarship some day.” 

With her school experience in coaching juniors, 
Winona was able to give her family some drilling 
in the matter of cricket, though she did not find that 
younger brothers and sisters proved such docile 
pupils as the members of III.A. and III.B. It was 
the usual case of “a prophet is not without honor, 
save in his own country,” and while to High School 
juniors she preserved the authority and dignity of a 
senior, to Letty, Mamie, Ernie, Godfrey, and Dorrie 
she was “only Winona.” She practiced tennis with 
the Vicarage girls, and was surprised to find how 
much her play had improved. Last summer they 
had nearly always beaten her, now it was she who 
scored the victories. 

“I’ve learnt how to play games at ‘The High,’ 
even if my report was only moderate,” she said to 
herself. 

To make up for the long holiday caused by the 
small-pox scare, school was to commence at the 
beginning of September. Aunt Harriet, who had 
not been well, and was taking a rest in Scotland, 
wrote that her house in Abbey Close was shut up 
for the present, but that she was making other 
arrangements for her great-niece until her return. 
This term a hostel was to be opened in connection 
with the High School, and Winona was to be a 
boarder there for a few weeks. She was uncertain 
whether she liked the prospect or not, but she nev- 
ertheless left home in good spirits. 

The hostel was under the superintendence of Miss 


i6o The Luckiest Girl in School 


Kelly. It was prettily furnished, and looked bright 
and pleasant. The girls had a common sitting-room, 
where they could read, write, paint or play games, 
and the bedrooms were divided into cubicles. So 
far there were only ten boarders, though there was 
accommodation for eighteen, but no doubt the num- 
bers would be increased when the venture became 
better known. 

The school seemed very strange without the 
familiar figures of Margaret Howell, Kirsty Pater- 
son, Patricia Marshall and the other prefects. All 
of the Sixth had left except Linda Fletcher and 
Dorrie Pollock, and the members of V.A. were now 
promoted to the top form. Linda Fletcher was 
head of the school, the new prefects being Hilda 
Langley, Agatha James, Bessie Kirk, Grace Olliver, 
Evelyn Richards and Garnet Emerson. Linda, with 
her past yeaPs experience, made an extremely suit- 
able “Head.” She understood thoroughly what 
ought to be done, and at once called a mass meet- 
ing of the whole school in the gymnasium. Every- 
body clapped as Linda stood up on the platform 
to open the proceedings. She had been a favorite 
as a prefect, so she was welcomed in her new capac- 
ity of “General.” 

“Girls!” she began. “I felt it was better to lose 
no time in calling this meeting to settle the affairs 
of the coming school year. I am in a difficult 
position, because I have to follow such an extremely 
able and efficient ‘Head.’ I’m afraid I can’t hope 
to rival Margaret Howell (cries of “Yes! Yes!” 
and “You’ll do!” from the audience), but at least 


Captain Winona i6i 

I shall try to do my duty. During the past year 
we may fairly consider that the ‘Seaton High’ made 
enormous strides. Owing to the exertions of our 
former ‘Head’ and prefects a most excellent founda- 
tion has been laid. The Dramatic Society, the De- 
bating Club, the Literary Association, the Photo- 
graphic Union and the Natural History League all 
accomplished very satisfactory work, and may be 
considered in a most flourishing condition. Perhaps, 
though, our greatest improvement is in the direc- 
tion of games. This may not appear on the surface, 
for though we won five hockey matches, it was im- 
possible, for reasons well known to you, to have 
fixtures for hockey and tennis. We feel, neverthe- 
less, that in spite of our inability to test our skill 
against that of other schools we are conscious of 
the enormous all-round improvement that has taken 
place in our play. It was Kirsty Paterson’s policy 
to train recruits for the games so that every girl 
in the school might be a possible champion. How 
well she succeeded I hope our next season’s matches 
may testify. Let us all work together for the good 
of the school, and try to establish the reputation 
of the ‘Seaton High.’ I need not remind you that 
everything in the coming year will depend upon the 
energy and efficiency of the Games Captain. As 
soon as I knew that I was ‘Head,’ I wrote to Kirsty, 
who is staying in Cornwall, and asked for her opin- 
ion upon this most important point. I want to 
read you an extract from her reply, which I re- 
ceived this morning. She says: 

“ ‘You ask me who is to be the new Games Cap- 


1 62 The Luckiest Girl in School 

tain. Well, of course it is a delicate matter to nom- 
inate my own successor, but from my knowledge 
of everybody’s capacities I should most decidedly 
suggest Winona Woodward. She is a good all- 
round player herself, and has a particular aptitude 
for organization, which should prove invaluable. 
She thoroughly appreciates the advantage of having 
reserves to fall back upon, and is most keen on keep- 
ing up the standard. I do hope the dear old “High” 
will have a splendid year. I shall be frantic to hear 
how you get on. Send me a p.c. with the result of 
the meeting.’ 

“Well,” continued Linda, “you’ve heard Kirsty’s 
opinion. It coincides entirely with mine. Will some 
one kindly propose that Winona Woodward shall 
be elected Games Captain?” 

“I have much pleasure in making the proposal,” 
paid Bessie Kirk, standing up promptly. 

“And I have much pleasure in seconding it,” mur- 
mured Grace Olliver. 

“Will all who are in favor kindly hold up their 
hands? Carried unanimously ! I’m extremely glad, 
as I’m sure Winona is ‘the right man for the job,’ 
and worthy to carry on Kirsty’s traditions. I vote 
we give her three cheers I” 

Winona flushed crimson as the hip-hip-hoorays 
rang forth. She had never expected such a complete 
walk-over. She had known that her name was to 
be submitted for the captaincy, but she had thought 
that Bessie Kirk and Marjorie Kemp held equal 
chances, and that the voting would probably be 
fairly evenly divided. That Kirsty should have 


Captain Winona 163 

written to nominate her was an immense gratifica- 
tion. Kirsty’s praise at the time had been scant, 
and Winona had no idea that her former chief held 
her in such esteem. To Winona the occasion 
seemed the triumph of her life. She would rather 
be Games Captain than have any other honor that 
could possibly be offered to her. Glorious visions 
of successful matches, of shields or cups won, and 
a county reputation for the school swam before her 
eyes. And she — Winona Woodward — was to have 
the privilege of leading and directing all this I It 
was indeed a thrilling prospect. Her thoughts went 
back to the symposium of a year ago, when as a 
new and unknown girl, she had listened to Margaret 
Howell’s inspiring speech. How unlikely it had 
seemed then that she would ever have a hand in 
making school history, but how her spirit had been 
stirred, and how she had longed to do her part! 
It was something to have realized her pet ambition. 

“It was most awfully good of you to propose 
me,” she said to Bessie Kirk afterwards. “You’d 
a splendid chance yourself.” 

“Not 1 1” returned Bessie lightly. “Kirsty’s let- 
ter settled the whole business. I shouldn’t have 
made nearly as good a Captain as you. I don’t care 
to bother with the kids, and I’d hate all the business 
part of it, making the fixtures and that sort of 
thing, you know. You’ll be Ai, and we’ll all play 
up no end. I believe we dare venture a fixture with 
Grant Park this season.” 

Winona fully realized the responsibilities of her 
important position, and began at once to pick up 


1 64 The Luckiest Girl in School 

the threads of her new duties. She took possession 
of the Games Register, with its records of past 
matches, and began to make plans for hockey fix- 
tures. The term had begun so early that the other 
schools in the county had not yet re-opened; that, 
however, was really an advantage, as it gave her 
more time for consideration. At present the Sep- 
tember weather was hot as summer, and tennis and 
cricket were still in full swing. In order to spur on 
enthusiasm Winona organized a school tennis tour- 
nament. The result was highly satisfactory. Sev- 
eral new and unsuspected stars swam into view, and 
she determined to keep her eye upon them as pos- 
sible champions for next summer. 

“You never know what a girl’s capable of till 
you try her !” she confided to Garnet. “Who would 
ever have thought that that stupid-looking little 
Emily Cooper could beat Ethel March? I was 
simply astounded. I’ve my plans for Emily, I can 
tell you I And I believe Bertha March is going to 
be a second Annie Hardy. She serves in exactly 
the same way. Oh, I’ve hopes for next summer. 
Brilliant, glorious hopes.” 

The school took every opportunity of using the 
fine weather while it lasted. The Photographic 
Union organized an outing to Linworth, a pictur- 
esque town six miles away, where an old castle, an 
Elizabethan mansion, a river and many quaint 
streets made subjects for their cameras, and prom- 
ised to provide materials for an exhibition later on, 
when films were developed and prints taken. The 
Natural History League had another delightful 


Captain Winona 165 

ramble under Miss Lever’s leadership, and secured 
additional specimens for the museum. On this oc- 
casion Winona and Garnet started in better time 
for the station, and did not get into the wrong train, 
as they had done on the expedition to Monkend 
Woods. 

“Dollikins,” as Miss Lever was affectionately 
nicknamed, was as great a favorite as ever among 
the girls. Owing to changes on the staff, she now 
had charge of IV.A. and taught mathematics 
throughout the junior forms, so that the seniors saw 
little of her in school hours. On a ramble she was 
as jolly as one of themselves. 

The Sixth had a new mistress. Miss Goodson, 
who had only joined the staff this term. The form 
was rather uncertain whether to like her or not. 
It was rumored that she had been engaged specially 
to coach them for the matriculation. So far the 
High School had been laying foundations, and had 
not sent in any candidates for public examinations. 
This year, however, having a certain amount of 
promising material in the Sixth, Miss Bishop had 
decided that the time was ripe for trying to win 
the educational laurels towards which their training 
had been directed. Miss Goodson came from a High 
School in the north, and brought with her a repu- 
tation for successful coaching. She was well up 
in all her subjects, but she was a cold and not very 
inspiring person. She was apt to concentrate her 
energies on the clever members of her form, and 
leave the less brilliant to stumble along as best they 
could. Winona, who certainly belonged to the sec- 


1 66 The Luckiest Girl in School 

ond category, did not like Miss Goodson, while 
Garnet was strongly in her favor. 

In her new capacity of prefect, Garnet proved a 
success. She was as enthusiastic over the “bookish” 
side of the school as Winona over the athletic de- 
partment. She was President of the Literary Asso- 
ciation, a member of the Debating Club Committee, 
and head librarian. The school library had grown 
and prospered exceedingly since its installation by 
Margaret Howell. It now numbered nearly five 
hundred volumes, and its shelves almost filled the 
Prefects’ Room. Garnet managed it systematically. 
She had special hours at which books were issued, 
and assistants whose business it was to be on duty 
at the specified times. 

Among other improvements in the school wel- 
comed by the girls was the advent of a fresh drilling 
mistress, and some new apparatus for gymnastics. 
Under Miss Barbour, “Gym” became highly popu- 
lar, and it was felt that an athletic display would 
probably be held at Christmas. This was some- 
thing to work for, and every one seemed much 
keener than formerly. Winona was naturally an 
enthusiast, and tried to keep others up to the mark. 
She had once seen an “Assault-at-Arms” at Percy’s 
college, and the memory of it made her long for 
the Seaton High School to have a similar oppor- 
tunity of showing its prowess. She and a select 
circle of friends practiced whenever possible. Alto- 
gether among the various athletic activities of the 
school. Captain Winona promised herself a very en- 
joyable year in the Sixth Form. 


CHAPTER XIII 

The Hostel 

Aunt Harriet had intended to return home to- 
wards the end of September, but her health con- 
tinued so unsatisfactory that her doctor ordered her 
to Harrogate to drink the waters, and advised a 
long period of rest and change before again taking 
up the many occupations with which she busied her- 
self in Seaton. Miss Beach was a restive patient, 
and Dr. Sidwell knew that if he once allowed her 
to be within reach of committees, she would plunge 
herself into work, while to keep away from the 
scenes of her former activity was her only chance 
of recovery. 

The house in Abbey Close was still shut up, and 
Winona for the present term was established at the 
Hostel. On the whole she liked it. She missed 
certain things, particularly her own bedroom, and 
the quiet dining-room where she had been accus- 
tomed to prepare her lessons, but life in a com- 
munity had its compensations. It was a nuisance 
to have to sleep in the same dormitory with Betty 
Carlisle, who snored offensively, but, on the other 
hand, Winona’s cubicle was next to the window, 
with the little balcony that overlooked the park, 
and every morning she could watch an aeroplane 
hovering and flitting like a beautiful dragon-fly over 
167 


1 68 The Luckiest Girl in School 


the city. Seaton possessed a Government aircraft 
factory, and each finished machine had to be care- 
fully tested. All the girls in the school were ex- 
tremely interested in the exploits of Lieutenant 
Mainwaring, a member of the Flying Corps, who 
might constantly be seen practicing. He was a 
cousin of Elsie Mainwaring, a Fifth Form girl. 
Elsie recorded his doings with immense pride, and 
provided up-to-date information of his whereabouts. 
He was a very daring young fellow, and was re- 
ported to have looped the loop. Winona had never 
witnessed the performance of this feat, so she looked 
out eagerly each day, hoping she might have the 
luck to see him do it. When the biplane came 
swooping over the park, she would wave her hand- 
kerchief to it from the balcony by way of encour- 
agement. She was immensely patriotic, and she con- 
sidered that our airmen deserved praise almost be- 
yond any other branch of our forces. She often 
wished Percy were in the Flying Squadron. She cut 
out all the pictures of aeroplanes from the Seaton 
Graphic, and pinned them up in her cubicle. There 
was a portrait of Lieutenant Mainwaring among the 
number, and this she placed on her dressing-table, 
side by side with Percy’s photograph. According 
to Elsie it was a very bad likeness, but as Winona 
had not seen the original, except at a distance, she 
had no means of judging. Curiosity led her to bor- 
row a pair of field-glasses from Garnet. She was 
standing one morning on the balcony when the aero- 
plane came in sight, and hovered quite low down 


The Hostel 169 

over the park, exactly opposite the hostel windows. 
Through her glasses Winona could plainly see the 
occupant. The impulse to smile and wave was irre- 
sistible. To her immense surprise the signal was 
returned. In frantic excitement she waved again, 
and shouted “Hooray!” 

“What are you doing, Winona Woodward?” 
snapped a voice behind her, and turning guilt- 
ily, she found herself face to face with Miss 
Kelly. 

“I — I was only looking at the aeroplane,” stam- 
mered Winona. 

“Come in at once! You know perfectly well that 
this sort of thing Is not allowed. I am very much 
surprised and disgusted. If I find you signaling to 
gentlemen again from this balcony, I shall change 
your dormitory. Whose field-glasses are those?” 

“Garnet Emerson’s,” said Winona sulkily. 

“Then you must give them back to Garnet this 
morning. Remember, that such unladylike conduct 
must never happen again at the hostel.” 

Winona considered herself very much aggrieved. 
She had waved on the spur of the moment, and to 
have her innocent and Impulsive act construed Into 
“signaling to gentlemen,” and reproved as “un- 
ladylike conduct,” was highly aggravating. Miss 
Kelly was a disciplinarian, and of a very suspicious 
temperament. Her idea of duty was the French one 
of “surveillance.” She never trusted the girls, or 
put them upon their honor; her mode of procedure 
was to keep an eye upon them, and to pop in sud- 


1 70 The Luckiest Girl in School 

denly and surprise them. They resented this atti- 
tude extremely. 

“Miss Kelly always gives us credit for going to 
do the very worst!” grumbled Betty Carlisle. 

“She puts ideas into our heads!” declared Doris 
Hooper indignantly. 

The gist of the trouble was this: the girls at the 
hostel expected to have as much liberty as if they 
were in their own homes, while Miss Kelly, who 
had formerly been a mistress at St. Chad’s, wished 
to enforce strict boarding-school rules. It was much 
more difficult to do this because the hostel only 
formed part of a large day school; the general at- 
mosphere of the place was more free than at a 
college where all alike are boarders, and the girls 
naturally were infected by the prevailing spirit. A 
constant source of annoyance was the rule that they 
must report themselves In the hostel at 4.15. It 
was the fashion to linger after school, and chat In 
the “gym” or In the playground. It was a delight- 
ful little time, when everybody could meet every 
one else, and discuss school news and matches and 
guilds and other interesting topics. To be obliged, 
for no particular reason, to cut short their conver- 
sations and race back to the hostel was annoying. 
The boarders evaded the rule as far as possible, but 
Miss Kelly kept a roll-call, and they knew that their 
absences would be duly reported to Miss Bishop. 

To Winona, In especial, many of the rules wer^ 
extremely irksome. At more than sixteen and a 
half, she felt it ridiculous to be obliged to ask per- 
mission to go out and buy a lead pencil at the sta- 


The Hostel ,171 

tioner’s. “It’s like living in a convent!’’ she fumed. 

Another bone of contention was her preparation. 
She had been so accustomed to work in a room by 
herself at Abbey Close that she found the presence 
of others highly distracting. Though silence was 
enforced, the girls fluttered the leaves of their books, 
scratched with their pens, or even murmured dates 
under their breath, all of which sounds were most 
irritating. Winona begged to be allowed to take 
her books to her cubicle, but Miss Kelly would not 
hear of it. 

“I cannot make an exception for one,” she re- 
plied, “and it would be impossible to allow girls to 
work as they liked in the dormitories. There would 
be more talking than preparation! You’ll stay here 
with the others, and I can see for myself what you’re 
doing.” 

The hint that Miss Kelly suspected her of some 
ulterior motive for wishing to study upstairs en- 
raged Winona, but she was obliged to submit, and 
to sit, close under the mistress’ eye, at the long 
table, in company with her fellow-boarders. Her 
work suffered in consequence, and Miss Goodson’s 
sarcasms descended on her head. Miss Goodson 
was not so patient a teacher as Miss Huntley, and 
Winona tried her temper at times. Winona was 
subject to curious fits of stupidity. Her brains were 
like a clock with a broken cog. Sometimes they 
would work easily, and on other days she seemed 
quite unable to grasp the most obvious problems. 
A lively imagination may be a very delightful pos- 
session, and of use in the writing of history and 


172 The Luckiest Girl in School 

literature exercises, but It cannot supply the place 
of solid facts, nor Is It of the least aid in mathe- 
matics, so Winona’s form record was not high. 

The hockey season would commence at the begin- 
ning of October, but during September, while the 
weather was still warm, the girls continued to play 
cricket on Wednesdays. The school was fortunate 
enough to possess large playing fields; these adjoined 
the public park, in Itself a big area, so that quite a 
fine open space lay below the buildings. One after- 
noon, just as Winona was having her innings, Elsie 
MainwarIng uttered a cry, and pointed overhead. 
Far up in the clouds was the aeroplane, and it was 
gracefully looping the loop. 

“It’s Harry! He’s showing off for our benefit!’’ 
squealed Elsie excitedly. “I told him we should be 
playing cricket to-day. Oh ! didn’t he do it cleverly? 
He went just straight head over heels in the air! 
Let’s wave to him, and perhaps he’ll come down a 
little.” 

Handkerchiefs fluttered out so briskly that the 
field resembled a washing day. Miss Barbour was 
signaling as vigorously as the rest. Evidently Lieu- 
tenant MainwarIng took the display for an invita- 
tion, the biplane descended like a hawk, and to every 
one’s immense gratification alighted on the school 
ground. To see a real live airman at such close 
quarters was not an ordinary experience. Elsie 
promptly Introduced her cousin to Miss Barbour 
and begged that they might all Inspect the machine. 
Lieutenant MainwarIng good-naturedly explained 
the various parts ; perhaps he rather enjoyed a visit 



“TO SEE A REAL LIVE AIRMAN AT SUCH CLOSE QUARTERS 
WAS NOT AN ORDINARY EXPERIENCE ” 






0 


The Hostel 173 

to a Ladies’ School! He did not stay long, how- 
ever, but after a few minutes started his engine and 
went soaring up again into the blue of the sky, and 
wheeling over the towers of the old Minster was 
soon lost to sight behind some clouds. 

“It must be glorious to fly!” sighed Winona. 

In spite of Miss Kelly’s injunctions she could not 
help looking out of her window every morning for 
the aeroplane, and giving a surreptitious wave. She 
told herself that she was only acting patriotically 
in cheering on our aerial defenses. The back of 
the hostel opened into the school playground, and 
one day Winona, taking a run there for exercise 
before breakfast, heard the familiar whirring, and 
looking up, beheld the flying-machine poised just 
overhead. She heard a shout from the occupant, 
and something dropped into the playground. She 
ran to pick it up. It was a packet of chocolates! 
She tried to wave thanks, but the biplane had moved 
on, and was now far over the town. Lieutenant 
Mainwaring no doubt having enjoyed his little joke 
of innocent bomb-dropping. 

Now most unfortunately for Winona, Miss Kelly’s 
bedroom window overlooked the playground, and 
she had been a witness of the whole incident. She 
came out now in extreme wrath, confiscated the 
chocolates, and scolded Winona sharply. 

“But it’s not my fault! I’d no idea he was 
going to drop anything!” protested Winona in- 
dignantly. 

“After what has happened before, I can only draw 
my own conclusions,” returned the mistress icily. 


174 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“You will change to Number 3 dormitory to-day.’^ 

“But, Miss Kelly ” 

“Don’t argue ! I warned you that I should move 
you if I found any more signaling going on. Your 
aunt will have to hear about this!” 

When Winona returned to the hostel that after- 
noon, and went upstairs, she found that all her pos- 
sessions had been cleared out of Number 2 dormi- 
tory, and placed in Number 3, which being at the 
side of the house had no view except the school 
buildings. The contents of her drawers had been 
transferred intact; her brushes, books and home 
photos were placed on her new dressing-table, but 
all the pictures of aeroplanes and the portrait of 
Lieutenant Mainwaring, which she had cut out of 
the Seaton Graphic, had disappeared. Winona sat 
down on the bed and laughed. She was very much 
annoyed, but the humor of the situation appealed 
to her. 

“It’s too idiotic of Miss Kelly! Does she think 
I’m going to elope in an aeroplane? I never heard 
of anything so silly in my life ! She may tell Aunt 
Harriet if she pleases. I don’t care! Why, I don’t 
suppose Lieutenant Mainwaring knows me from any 
other girl in the school. He just dropped those 
chocs, on spec. It was a shame I wasn’t allowed 
to eat them !” 

Miss Kelly, very keen on upholding discipline in 
her new hostel, considered that she had successfully 
squashed an incipient flirtation, and kept a stern eye 
on all the elder girls, and most particularly on 
Winona, for fear some repetition of the offense 


The Hostel 175 

might occur. The boarders were justly indignant. 

“Too bad!” was the general verdict. “Winona’s 
not a scrap that sort of girl really, if Miss Kelly 
only knew. It’s absurd to make such a fuss.” 

Out of sheer bravado and love of mischief, the 
remaining occupants of Number 2 dormitory waved 
not only handkerchiefs but towels from the balcony 
when they heard the whirring of the aeroplane over- 
head, enjoying the exciting sensation that any mo- 
ment they might be pounced upon by Miss Kelly. 
No doubt In time they would have been discovered 
in the act, but at the end of three days Lieutenant 
Malnwaring was sent to the front, and his successor, 
not having a cousin at the Seaton High School, took 
no Interest In school girls, and flew over the city ob- 
livious of everything except his engines. 

“I don’t suppose he’d notice if we waved a sheet 1 ” 
said Betty Carlisle disappointedly. 

“The police might though, and they’d think you 
were signaling to Germans,” replied Doris Hooper. 
“Come in. Bet, it’s no use! Girl alive, quick! I 
hear the dragon’s fairy footsteps In the passage. 
Do you want to get your head bitten off?” 

In spite of occasional hostilities with Miss Kelly, 
Winona managed to have a good deal of fun at the 
hostel. The other girls were jolly, and In the eve- 
nings, when preparation was finished, they would 
play games together In their sitting-room. There 
were high jinks in the dormitories, and small excite- 
ments over little happenings, which, however trivial 
they might be, provided considerable entertainment 
to the participants. Only one really stormy incident 


176 The Luckiest Girl in School 

occurred during Winona’s term at the hostel, and 
that had nothing to do with Miss Kelly. 

One Saturday morning, when Winona, Betty and 
Doris were in the town shopping, they happened 
to meet Clarice Nixon, who stopped to chat, and 
ask for school news. 

“I feel fearfully out of things now I’ve left,” said 
Clarice. “It’ll be a stale winter without hockey.” 

“Why don’t you join a Club?” suggested Winona. 

“Shouldn’t care to! It would be no fun to play 
with a team I don’t know. The Seaton Ladies’ Club 
is the only decent one, and I hear they’re so cliquey. 
I wish we could get up an Old Girls’ Hockey Club 1 ” 

“Why, that would be simply glorious! What a 
splendiferous idea! Oh, do let us try! Then we 
could have a Past versus Present match. Oh! 
wouldn’t it be precious?” 

“Have you settled up your fixtures?” 

“Very nearly.” 

“Then we ought to get this thing in hand at once. 
You’re Games Captain, so you ought to organize it. 
Write round to-day to all the old girls you know, 
and ask them to come to a meeting on Monday.” 

“Isn’t that rather soon?” said Betty. 

“Not a bit. No time must be wasted. If the club’s 
to be a going concern for this season. Don’t let the 
grass grow under your feet. Is my advice.” 

Winona was naturally Impulsive. The Idea ap- 
pealed to her so immensely, that she straightway 
bought a packet of post-cards and a number of half- 
penny stamps, and sent out her Invitations. As she 
was bound to report herself in the hostel at 4.15, she 


The Hostel 177 

decided to call the meeting there at 4.20. It could 
be held in the sitting-room, and there would be plenty 
of time to discuss matters before five o’clock tea. 
She wrote to Margaret Howell, Kirsty Paterson, 
and all the former members of the Sixth, and was 
already exulting over the success which she hoped 
would accrue. She was sure every one in the school 
would like the notion when they heard about it. 

On Monday morning when she walked into her 
form room, she noticed several of the prefects talk- 
ing together. They looked at her significantly as she 
entered, and Evelyn Richards made a movement as 
if about to speak. Grace Olliver, however, laid her 
hand on Evelyn’s arm, and pointed to the clock, as 
if deferring the matter. At eleven “break,” as the 
girls filed out of the room, Agatha James laid a 
paper on Winona’s desk. It bore the words: 

“Kindly report yourself at once in the prefects’ 
room.” 

Rather mystified, Winona obeyed the summons. 
She found the prefects assembled in their den, look- 
ing dignified and perturbed. 

“Winona Woodward,” began Linda Fletcher, 
“are you responsible for this post-card?” showing 
one of the invitations which had been written on 
Saturday. “Beatrice Howell brought it to me first 
thing this morning, by Margaret’s advice. Mar- 
garet couldn’t understand why you had sent it to 
her.” 

“I explained on the card,” replied Winona 
eagerly. “It was to try to get up an Old Girls’ 
Hockey Club I” 


178 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“And who gave you authority to call such a 
meeting?’’ asked Linda icily. 

“Why, I thought as Games Captain ’’ began 

Winona, then she stopped, for the faces of the pre- 
fects expressed a righteous wrath that staggered 
her. 

“It was a most unwarrantable liberty!’’ continued 
the head girl. “As Games Captain you are respon- 
sible for the school play and for the fixtures, but 
you’re certainly not to take upon yourself a matter 
of this kind. Why, you’re not even a prefect ! And 
no prefect would have dreamed of calling such a 
meeting on her own account without consulting her 
colleagues.” 

“I — thought — there wasn’t time — to ask,” stam- 
mered Winona, overcome with confusion. 

“As a matter of fact the suggestion had already 
been placed before the prefects, and it was proposed 
to form an Old Girls’ Guild, which would include 
several branches, a Hockey Club being among the 
number. An initial committee meeting is to be held 
next Thursday. Margaret Howell was perfectly 
well aware of this, and could not understand why you 
should have stepped in and called a meeting at the 
hostel, thus forestalling our arrangements.” 

“It’s the most abominable cheek I ever heard of!” 
burst out Agatha James. 

“What were you dreaming of?” demanded Grace 
Olliver. 

Poor Winona ! She suddenly saw her innocent, 
impulsive act in the light in which it must appear 
to the prefects. It had never struck her that she 


The Hostel 179 

was exceeding her authority, and that she ought to 
have referred the matter to the head of the school. 
The urgency of getting the club started, so as to 
enter a Past v. Present in her list of fixtures, had 
been her uppermost thought. She had indeed made 
a most terrible blunder. The feeling against her 
was evidently one of general censure. Even Garnet 
looked grave, and Bessie Kirk was bridling. Linda’s 
manner was coldly official. The stateliness of her 
speech was more cutting than Agatha’s explosive 
wrath. Winona collapsed utterly, and groveled. 

“I’m most fearfully sorry!’’ she apologized. “In- 
deed I’d never have done it if I’d thought about it. 
I was an utter Idiot I I really don’t know what pos- 
sessed me! I just sent off those cards in a hurry. 
What shall I do? There Isn’t time to write back 
to everybody!” 

“I think I can send messages to most of the girls, 
and if any turn up at the hostel this afternoon they 
must be told.” Linda’s tone was slightly mollified. 
“I hardly need Impress upon you the necessity in 
future of referring everything to headquarters. No 
school can be run on the basis of individual enter- 
prise.” 

Duly chastened, Winona left the prefects’ room. 
She had the further annoyance In the afternoon of 
explaining the situation to several comers who 
turned up in answer to her invitation. Notwith- 
standing this preliminary disturbance, the Old Girls’ 
Guild was started with thirty-five members on the 
roll. A Hockey Club and a Dramatic Society were 
formed, both of which promised to have a flourish- 


i8o The Luckiest Girl in School 

ing existence, and Winona had the satisfaction of 
fixing a Past v. Present match for the following 
March. The prefects were magnanimous enough 
to bear her no ill-will, so on the whole she came 
out of a very unpleasant dilemma much better than 
she expected. 


CHAPTER XIV 


The Hockey Season 

When the hockey season commenced, Winona got 
to business. She was wildly anxious to prove an 
effective Games Captain, and win credit for the 
school. It would be no easy matter to follow so 
excellent a predecessor as Kirsty Paterson, but she 
determined to keep Kirsty’s ideals well in mind, and 
try to live up to them. One change, which Kirsty 
had suggested, Winona at once carried out. The 
hockey badge was altered. The new one had the 
initials S.H.S. embroidered in the school colors on 
plain dark blue shields, and looked very imposing 
on the tunics. There was another point upon which 
Winona was resolved to effect a reform. The field 
was not in a thoroughly satisfactory condition, and 
certainly needed attention. The prefects had put 
the matter before Miss Bishop, who referred it to 
the Governors. Those august personages, mindful 
of war economies, decided that for the present it 
would do well enough, and would not vote the spend- 
ing of any money upon its improvement. The bad 
news was received with indignation throughout the 
school. 

“It’s too stingy for anything! How can we pos- 
sibly have decent practice on such a rough old place ? 
I’d like to make them come and try it for them- 
selves, the mean wretches!” protested Bessie Kirk. 

i8i 


1 82 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Winona laughed. A vision of the Governors 
wildly brandishing hockey sticks flashed across her 
imagination. She seized her note-book and drew 
a fancy portrait of the delicious scene: old Coun- 
cillor Thomson, very wheezy and fat, running furi- 
ously; bald-headed Mr. Crabbe performing wonder- 
ful acrobatic feats; a worthy J.P. engaged in a tussle 
with the Town Clerk; and various other of the City 
Fathers In interesting and exciting attitudes. The 
masterpiece was passed round for general admira- 
tion. The girls sniggered. 

“Wish we could show it to them!” said Margaret 
Kemp. “Perhaps it might make them realize their 
responsibilities. It’s too sickening of them to grudge 
keeping the field in order!” 

“Look here, it’s no use complaining!” said 
Winona. “Of course it relieves one’s feelings, but 
It doesn’t make any difference to the field. I’ve got 
a plan to propose. Let us ask Miss Bishop how 
much It would cost to hire somebody to do the roll- 
ing, and offer to pay for It ourselves. We could 
get up a Hockey Concert In aid of it.” 

“What a frolicsome notion! I’m your man!” 

“Wouldn’t it be setting a bad precedent?” ob- 
jected Marjorie Kemp. “Suppose the Governors 
stop having the tennis courts cut, and say we may 
do it ourselves?” 

“We’d put that to Miss Bishop first, and make It 
well understood.” 

“It would just make all the difference to the 
practices to have a roller at work, even once a 
week,” urged Olave Parry. “Do ask about it. Win !” 


The Hockey Season 183 

Miss Bishop, on being appealed to, considered 
the suggestion favorably, 

“Certainly there’s no reason why you shouldn’t 
improve the field, if you wish,” she replied, adding 
with a smile: “I’ll take care that the tennis courts 
don’t suffer in consequence. It was a prudent 
thought to mention them. I expect when the war is 
over, the Governors may be persuaded to take the 
full expense of the playing field too. I’ll get an 
estimate at once of what the rolling would cost.” 

Jones, the school janitor, who formerly kept the 
courts and cricket pitch in order, had gone to the 
war, and his place was occupied by a rheumatic old 
fellow who could do little more than carry coke and 
attend to the heating apparatus. When every able- 
bodied man seemed fighting or making munitions, it 
was difficult to find anybody to roll a hockey field, 
A volunteer was procured at last, however, who un- 
dertook the job at the rate of £i per month, with 
an extra thirty shillings for putting the field in good 
order to begin with. Six or seven pounds, there- 
fore, would cover the expenses of the season. 
Winona, mindful of the terrible offense she had 
given in connection with the Old Girls’ Guild, very 
wisely took the matter to Linda Fletcher, who called 
a united meeting of Prefects and Games Committee 
to discuss the best way of raising the money. 

“It will have to be done on a bigger scale than 
the symposium last year,” said Hilda Langley. “If 
I remember rightly, that made exactly £2 135. ^d., 
enough for a Form trophy, but not suffipient for 
this venture.” 


1 84 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“We’d better Issue tickets, and sell some of them 
to parents and friends,” suggested Linda. 

“How many will the hall hold?” 

“Three hundred at a pinch, if the babes squash 
up tight.” 

“They won’t mind doing that In a good cause.” 

“The Dramatic Society ought to take an innings, 
and provide at least half the program.” 

“They’ll jump at the opportunity. I believe they 
have something quite prepared, and have been 
yearning for an audience.” 

“Then by all means let them have one.” 

“At sixpence a head,” added practical Marjorie; 
“we ought easily to be able to sell sixpenny tickets.” 

Everybody took up the Idea with enthusiasm. 
The difficulty was not so much to find helpers as to 
decide who was to have the honor of performing. 
There were many heart-burnings before the pro- 
gram was finally fixed. It was decided that a musi- 
cal selection should be given first, followed by a 
piece by the Dramatic students. To cut these to 
reasonable limits needed all Linda’s discretion, tact 
and firmness. 

“You can’t have an entertainment beginning at 
three, and going on till midnight,” she urged, as the 
various desired Items were submitted to her. 
“You’d have to hire ambulances to take your ex- 
hausted audience home! Very sorry, but we must 
keep some of the things for a future occasion.” 

Linda, being wise in her generation, and having 
an eye to the sale of tickets, insisted that the Lower 
School should take a share in the performance. 


The Hockey Season 185 

“Who wants to bother to hear the kids?’’ ob- 
jected Grace Olliver, who, by the bye, was a member 
of the “Dramatic,” and therefore not entirely dis- 
interested. 

“If we don’t bother with the kids, they mayn’t 
bother to come and bring friends, and we should 
look silly if we didn’t sell all our tickets I Let them 
do their flag display, and sing their Empire song., 
That will content them and their mothers, and leaves 
quite time enough for other people.” 

Miss Bishop allowed a special Wednesday after- 
noon to be set aside for the entertainment; the 
tickets sold briskly, and expectation ran high. All 
concerned in the program kept their parts a dead 
secret, but items leaked out, and the wildest rumors 
were afloat. It was whispered that some of the 
Governors were to be present, and even that Miss 
Bishop would perform a sword dance, though not 
the most callow of juniors really consented to swal- 
low such an astounding piece of information. The 
uncertainty as to what was in store, however, added 
largely to the pleasurable anticipation, and though 
the Dramatic Society rehearsed with locked door, 
and the keyhole carefully stopped up, juvenile spies, 
by hoisting one another up to the level of the win- 
dows, obtained brief and tantalizing peeps and 
spread news of gorgeosities in the way of cos- 
tumes. 

When the great afternoon arrived, the hall was 
crammed. The little girls were packed as tightly 
as sardines. A long line of them squatted on the 
floor in front of the first row, and others sat on the? 


1 86 The Luckiest Girl in School 

window sills, the latter positions having been scram- 
bled for with enthusiasm. 

Every one was at the tip-top of expectation. The 
concert opened with the inevitable piano solo which 
seems indispensable for the starting of any enter- 
tainment, and during the performance of which late- 
comers hurry to their seats, programs are sold, and 
the audience, with a tremendous amount of rustling 
and whispering, settles itself down to listen. This 
initiatory ceremony being over, more interesting 
items followed. The juveniles sang an Empire song, 
accompanied by a pretty flag drill; it was a taking 
tune, and as Linda had prophesied was immensely 
applauded by the visitors, who insisted on an encore. 
A violin solo came next, and was followed by a 
charming Russian dance given by two members of 
Form IV.A. Garnet played a piece on her mando- 
line, with piano accompaniment. She had suggested 
a duet for mandoline and guitar, but Winona had 
had no time to practice her instrument lately, and 
had begged to be excused. The fact was that 
Winona had been busy with a special item which 
she now brought out as a surprise to the school. 
She had composed some verses in praise of hockey, 
and set them to one of the tunes in the senior school 
song-book. The piece was sung by an eleven in full 
hockey costume, and they waved their hockey-sticks 
with appropriate actions to the music: 

“When autumn returns, and the trees are all bare, 

Our blue tunics are off to the field ; 

No team in excitement with ours can compare, 

As our hockey-sticks wildly we wield. 


The Hockey Season 187 

For hockey’s the game to play 
When autumn has come to stay, 

And this is the reason we love the cold season, 

For hockey’s the game to play. 

“Hurrah for goalkeepers, for forwards and halves! 
Hurrah for the clash of the sticks! 

Hurrah for the rapture of scoring a goal ! 

(Who minds a few bruises or kicks?) 

For hockey’s the game to play. 

When autumn has come to stay. 

And this is the reason we love the cold season, 

For hockey’s the game to play. 

“But a team that is set upon scoring its goal, 

And winning a vict’ry or two. 

Must see that its field it should carefully roll. 

And that’s what we’re hoping to do ! 

Oh! hockey’s the game to play. 

When autumn has come to stay. 

Yes, this is the reason we love the cold season. 
When hockey’s the game we play ! 

“Hurrah for Form trophies! Hurrah for our badge! 
We’ll make it an annual rule 
To hold a ‘Sports’ Concert,’ to wish all success 
To the team of the Seaton High School! 

Oh ! hockey’s the game to play. 

And at Seaton we know the way! 

Yes, this is the reason we love the cold season. 
When hockey’s the game we play !” 

Winona’s words would certainly not have passed 
muster as a literary composition, but their extreme 
appropriateness to the occasion, combined with the 
action of the hockey-sticks, completely brought 


1 88 The Luckiest Girl in School 

down the house. The applause was thunderous, and 
the last verse was encored twice over. Undoubtedly 
it was the hit of the afternoon. 

For the second part of the performance the Dra- 
matic Society gave an amusing little play, and the 
concert wound up with a lusty rendering of certain 
patriotic songs. 

Winona was highly gratified. Both artistically 
and financially the entertainment had proved a suc- 
cess. The committee would be well able to b«ar the 
expense of keeping the field in order. A gardener 
had been at work there, and already a marked im- 
provement was noticeable. The Games Captain’s 
enthusiasm was infectious. Under her leadership 
the girls became wonderfully keen. To Winona the 
thrill of struggle when a game seemed on the eve 
of being lost was one of the wildest excitements in 
life, and the joy when she struck the ball home 
straight and true the utmost triumph obtainable. 
During this autumn term she lived for hockey. The 
crowd of school girls, in thick boots and blue tunics, 
struggling and shouting in a somewhat muddy field 
might not be an altogether picturesque sight, but to 
the Captain it was Marathon and Waterloo com- 
bined. No colonel prided himself on a crack regi- 
ment more than Winona on her team. Sometimes, 
of course, a practice was off color; the day might be 
bleak or drizzly, or players might be penalized for 
“sticks,” or grumblers might express their dissatis- 
faction audibly, but whatever went wrong, Winona 
emerged cheerful from the fray, remonstrated with 
“off-sides” and “sticks,” and reminded growlers 


The Hockey Season 189 

that it is unsporting to murmur. By Kirsty’s advice 
she had sent out challenges to several good clubs in 
the neighborhood. 

“While we were still in our callow infancy I 
should not have ventured,” wrote Kirsty from Corn- 
wall. “But one must begin some time to measure 
one’s strength. After the work we did last season, 
I certainly think you might risk it. Nothing im- 
proves a team so much as playing plenty of matches; 
you see in time you get to know the strokes of 
everybody at the High, and you can calculate what 
others will do at certain turns of the game; it’s 
far better for you to meet all sorts and conditions 
of opponents.” 

Winona had been afraid it was rather “cheek” to 
challenge the “West Rytonshire Club” or “Oat- 
lands College,” but she ascertained that both those 
august bodies had two teams. Number i and Num- 
ber 2, and that while the first only met foes worthy 
of their steel (or rather sticks!) the second would 
graciously condescend to play a yet unknown High 
School. The match with Oatlands College was 
fixed for December i6th, and Winona looked for- 
ward to it with some anxiety. The last practice 
had not been altogether satisfactory. The day had 
been wretchedly cold, and everybody had been cross 
in consequence. The team, though proud of its fix- 
ture with so celebrated an opponent, was not very 
sure of itself. 

“I hope to goodness Peggie’ll play up 1 ” groaned 
Marjorie Kemp. “The way she lost that last goal 
on Saturday was idiotic.” 


:i9o The Luckiest Girl in School 

“She said she was cold!” commented Gladys 
Porter, witheringly. “She wanted to change at half- 
time. She said her feet were solid ice, and her nose 
was blue, and it was no fun watching the whole of 
the game being played right away at the other end 
of the field.” 

“Most unsporting!” moralized Marjorie. “Be- 
sides, when she got her chance, she hit the air! It 
will be very humiliating if the Oatlands team walk 
over us!” 

“Oh, don’t be a Jeremiah ! We’re not beaten yet I 
If anybody can pull us through, our Captain 
will!” 

“Winona’s a jewel!” agreed Marjorie. “And yet 
the best captain in the world can’t make up for an 
only moderately good team. I feel my own de- 
ficiencies !” 

Practically the whole of the High School assem- 
bled as spectators on the great day of the match. 
Things were very different now from the old times 
when a mere handful collected to cheer the Seaton 
team. Mistresses and girls were alike keen, and 
most desirous of witnessing the combat. They fol- 
lowed the game breathlesly. 

“Oatlands isn’t worth a toss!” commented Garnet 
exultantly. 

“Don’t make too sure!” replied Linda, looking 
with apprehension as the red jerseys of their rivals 
massed round the ball. 

A familiar figure dashed forward, a hockey stick 
struck, and the ball swept out to safety. Linda 
heaved a long sigh of relief. 


The Hockey Season 191: 

“Winona is just Ai,” she murmured. “Hello T 
Good gracious! what’s that idiot doing?” 

For Ellinor Cooper, whose arm was the strongest 
in the school, wielding her hockey stick with all her 
force, had hit Winona across the shin. 

Instantly there was a commotion. Winona, white 
with the agony of the blow, leaned hard against 
Bessie Kirk, and clenched her fists to avoid crying 
out. 

“Are you hurt?” 

“What’s happened?” 

“You’ve had a nasty knock!” 

There was quite a crowd round Winona, and a 
chorus of sympathy. 

“Put in a substitute!” urged Bessie. “You’re not 
fit to go on!” 

“No, no ! I’m better now,” panted their captain, 
with a wan little smile. “I’ll manage, thanks! Yes, 
really! Please don’t worry yourselves about me!” 

The game recommenced and Winona, with a su- 
preme effort, continued to play. The pain was still 
acute, but she realized that on her presence or ab- 
sence depended victory or defeat. Without her, the 
courage of the team would collapse. How she lived 
through the time she never knew. 

Inspired by the heroic example of their captain, 
the girls were playing for all they were worth. The 
score, which had been against them, was now even. 
Time was almost up. Winona set her teeth. The 
ball seemed a kind of star which she was following 
— following anyhow. As the French say, she “did 
her possible.” The ball went spinning. Next min- 


192 The Luckiest Girl in School 

ute she was leaning against a goal-post, trembling 
with the violence of her effort, while the High School 
hoorayed Itself hoarse in the joy of the hard-won 
victory. 

“I say, old girl, were you really hurt?” asked Bes- 
sie anxiously. “You’re looking the color of chalk!” 

“Never mind. It’s over now! Yes, I am hurt. 
Give me your arm, and I’ll go back to the hostel.” 

“You’re an absolute Joan of Arc to-day!” purred 
Bessie. 

Winona, with a barked shin and bad bruises, 
limped for more than a week, but she was the heroine 
of the school. 

“I can’t think how you ran, after that awful 
whack Elllnor Cooper gave you,” sympathized Mar- 
jorie. 

“It was easier to run then than after my leg grew 
stiff,” laughed Winona. “I suppose It’s the excite- 
ment that keeps one up. Don’t make such a fuss, 
we’ve all had hard knocks In our time. Agnes Smith 
got a black eye last spring!” 

As the result of her wounds In the hockey field 
Winona made friends with Miss Kelly. The latter 
was most prompt In applying lanoline and bandages, 
and proved so kind In bringing Winona her break- 
fast in bed, and making her rest on the sofa during 
preparation, that a funny little sort of intimacy 
sprang up between them. 

“She’s fussy on the surface, but nice when you 
know her,” confided Winona to Garnet. “If I’d 
been staying at the hostel, I expect we should have 
got on capitally next term !” 


CHAPTER XV 

Winona Turns Chauffeur 

After the Christmas holidays Winona returned to 
Abbey Close. Miss Beach was installed once more 
in her own home, though under strict orders from 
the doctor not to over-exert herself. During her 
stay at Harrogate she had bought a small two-seater 
car, and had learnt to drive it. She kept it at a 
garage in the town, and used it almost every day. 
It was invaluable to her as a means of getting about. 
She was anxious not to relinquish all her work in 
Seaton, but she could not now bear the fatigue of 
walking. In her car distance was no obstacle, and 
she could continue her inspection of boarded-out 
workhouse children, attend babies’ clinics in country 
villages beyond the city area, visit the wives of sol- 
diers and sailors, regulate the orphanage, and su- 
perintend the Tipperary Club. Miss Beach’s ener- 
getic temperament made her miserable unless fully 
occupied, so, the doctor having forbidden her former 
strenuous round of duties, she adopted the car as 
a compromise, assuring him that she would limit 
her list to a few of her pet schemes only. It was 
probably her wisest course. It is very hard for 
elderly people to be laid on the shelf, and to feel 
that their services are set aside. Miss Beach had 
lived so entirely in her various philanthropic occupa- 
193 


.194 The Luckiest Girl in School 

tions, that to give everything up would have been a 
severe mental shock. As it was, she managed to 
obey medical orders, and at the same time, to a cer- 
tain extent, keep her old place in the work of the 
city. 

As the days became longer and lighter, she some- 
times took her great-niece with her in the car. 
Winona had really very little time out of school 
hours; her duties as Games Captain were paramount, 
and hockey practices and matches absorbed most of 
her holiday afternoons. When she had an occa- 
sional free hour, however. It was an Immense treat 
to go motoring. She loved the feeling of spinning 
along through the country lanes. It was delightful 
to see new places and fresh roads. Seaton was in 
the midst of a beautiful district, and there were 
charming villages, woods, and lovely views of sce- 
nery within easy distance. 

One Saturday, when for a wonder there was no 
event at school. Miss Beach suddenly suggested that 
they should start in the car, take a luncheon basket 
with them, and explore some of the country In the 
neighborhood. It was a glorious spring morning, 
with a clear pale blue sky, and a touch of warmth 
in the sunshine that set winter to flight, and brought 
the buds out on the trees. On such a day the human 
sap, too, seems to rise, there is an exhilaration, 
physical and spiritual, when we long to run or to 
sing for the sheer vital joy of living, when our 
troubles don’t seem to matter, and the future looks 
rosy, and for the moment we feel transferred to the 
golden age of the poets, when the world was young. 


Winona Turns Chauffeur, 195 

and Pan played his pipes in the meadows among 
the asphodels. Winona, at any rate, was in an ec- 
static frame of mind, and though Aunt Harriet did 
not openly express her enthusiasm, the mere fact 
of her suggesting such an outing proved that the 
spring had called her, and that she was ready to 
go out and worship at Nature’s shrine. Do not im- 
agine for a moment that Miss Beach, whatever her 
feelings, allowed any romantic element to appear 
on the surface. She fussed over the car, measured 
the amount of petrol left in the tank, debated 
whether she had better go to the garage for an 
extra can in case of emergencies, called out the cook 
to dust the seat, sent the housemaid flying to the 
attic for an air-cushion, inspected the lunch basket, 
gave half-a-dozen directions for things to be done 
in her absence, wrote last messages on a slate for 
people who might possibly call on business, scolded 
Winona for putting on her thin coat, and sent her 
to fetch her thick one and a rug for her knees, 
and finally, after a very breathless ten minutes got 
under way, and started forth. They drove slowly 
through the town traffic, but soon they had left 
streets behind, and were spinning along the high 
road in the direction of Wickborough. 

Long as she had lived at Seaton, Miss Beach had 
never seen Wickborough Castle, and to-day she was 
determined to pay it a visit. It was a very ancient 
place, built originally by King Canute, in the days 
when red war was waged between Saxon and Norse- 
man. Little of the old Danish tower remained, but 
successive generations had erected keep and turret. 


196 The Luckiest Girl in School 

bastion and guard house, crumbling now indeed into 
ruins, but picturesque in their decay, and full of 
historical associations. Here proud Queen Marga- 
ret, hard pressed by her enemies, had found a timely 
shelter for herself and her little son, till an escort 
could convey her to a spot of greater safety; here 
Richard II. had pursued sweet unwilling Anne of 
Warwick, and forced her to accept his hated suit; 
Princess Mary had passed a part of her unhappy 
childhood within its walls, and Anne Boleyn’s merry 
laugh had rung out there. The situation of the 
Castle was magnificent. It stood on the summit of 
a wooded cliff which ran sheer into the river, and 
commanded a splendid prospect of the country 
round, and a bird’s-eye view of the little town that 
clustered at the foot of the crag. 

“It’s like an eagle’s nest!” commented Winona, 
as leaving the car at the bottom of the hill they 
climbed on foot up the zigzag pathway to the keep. 
“It must have been a regular robber-baron’s strong- 
hold in the Middle Ages!” 

Miss Beach had bought a guide-book, and reject- 
ing the services of a persistent little girl who was 
anxious to point out the various spots of interest, 
with an eye to a tip, they strolled about, trying to 
reconstruct a fancy portrait of the place for them- 
selves. Canute’s tower was still left, a squat solid 
piece of masonry, with enormously thick walls and 
tiny lancet windows. It was rather dark, but as it 
was the only portion remaining intact, it was used as 
a museum, and various curiosities were preserved 
there. The great fire-place held a spit for roasting 


Winona Turns Chauffeur 197 

an ox whole, and had a poker five feet long; stone 
cannon-balls were piled up on the floor, and on the 
walls hung a medieval armory of helmets, gorge- 
lets, breast-plates, coats of mail, shields and swords, 
daggers and lances. A special feature of the mu- 
seum was a wax-work figure of a knight clad in 
full armor which gave an excellent idea of what 
Sir Bevis of Wickborough must have looked like 
somewhere about the year 1217. Another figure, 
dressed in rich velvet and fur, with flowered silk 
kirtle, represented his wife Dame Philippa, in the 
act of offering him a silver goblet of wine, while a 
hound stood with its head pressed to her hand. 
The group was so natural that it was almost start- 
ling, and took the spectator back as nothing else 
could have done to the ancient medieval days which 
it pictured. A small stair in the corner of the tower 
led down to a dungeon, where, lying among the 
straw, was an equally impressive waxwork figure of 
a prisoner, wretched, unkempt, and bound hand and 
foot with chains. A pitcher of water lay by his 
side, and a stuffed rat peering from the straw added 
a further touch of realism. Winona shuddered. It 
was a ghastly sight, and she was thankful to run 
up the stairs and go from the keep out into the 
spring sunshine. She had always had a romantic 
admiration for the Middle Ages, but this aspect 
of thirteenth-century life did not commend itself 
to her. “They were bad old times, after all !” she 
decided, and came to the conclusion that the twen- 
tieth century, even with its horrible war, was a more 
humane period to live in. 


j 98 The Luckiest Girl in School 

At the foot of the crag, close by the river, lay the 
remains of the old Priory Church, an ivy-covered 
fabric, whose broken chancel still gave a shelter to 
the battered tombs of the knights who had lived in 
the Castle above. Sir Bevis and Dame Philippa lay 
here in marble, their features calm and rigid, their 
hands folded in prayer, less human indeed, but in- 
finitely grander than in their wax effigies of the 
tower. Seven centuries of sunshine and storm had 
passed over their heads, and castle and church were 
alike in ruins. 

“Their bones are dust, 

Their good swords rust, 

Their souls are with the Saints, we trust,” 

thought Winona, as she took a photograph of the 
quiet scene. It was deeply interesting, but on this 
glorious lovely spring day it seemed a little too sad. 
With all the birds singing, and the hedges in bud, 
and the daisies showing white stars among the grass, 
she wanted to live in the present, and not in the 
past. And yet, if we think about it rightly, the 
past is never really sad. Those who lived before 
us accomplished their work, and have passed on- 
wards — a part of the world scheme — to, we doubt 
not, fuller and worthier work beyond. We, still 
in the preparatory class of God’s great school, can- 
not yet grasp the higher forms, but those who have 
been moved up surely smile at our want of com- 
prehension, and look back on this earth as the Col- 
lege undergraduate remembers his kindergarten; 


Winona Turns Chauffeur 199 

for the spiritual evolution goes ever on, working 
always Godwards, and when the human dross falls 
away, the imperfect and the partial will be merged 
into the perfect and the eternal. The broken egg- 
shells may lie in the old nest, but the fledged larks 
are singing in the blue of the sky. 

From the little town of Wickborough they drove 
along the old Roman road towards Danestone. 
Part of their way lay across Wickland Heath, and 
here, as it was now past mid-day. Miss Beach sug- 
gested that they should stop and take their lunch. 
It was a most glorious spot for a picnic. They 
were at the top of a tableland, and before them 
spread the Common, a brown sea of last year’s 
heather and bilberry, with gorse bushes flaming here 
and there like golden fires. A sparrow-hawk, more 
majestic than any aeroplane, sailed serenely over- 
head, and a pair of whinchats, perturbed by his 
vicinity, flew with a sharp twitter over the low stone 
wall, and sought cover among the brambles. Be- 
yond stretched the Roman road, broad and straight, 
a landmark for miles. Cities and civilization were 
far away, and they were alone with the moor and 
the peaty little brook, and the birds and the sun 
and the fresh spring wind. The joyous influence 
was irresistible; even Miss Beach dropped ten years’ 
burden of cares, and waxed almost light-hearted. 
Winona had seldom seen her aunt in such a mood, 
and she seized the opportunity as a favorable mo- 
ment to proffer a request which she had often longed, 
but had never hitherto dared, to make. It was no 
less a suggestion than that she might be allowed to 


200 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

try to drive the car. She put it in tentative fashion, 
fully expecting a refusal, but Aunt Harriet received 
the idea quite graciously. 

“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t. The 
road’s wide and straight, and not a vehicle in sight; 
you couldn’t have a better place to learn on in the 
whole of the kingdom. Mind you do exactly what 
I tell you, that’s all!” 

Winona’s face was shining. Ever since she had 
first seen the pretty little two-seater it had been her 
secret ambition to work its steering wheel for her- 
self. She packed up the lunch basket in a hurry, for 
fear her aunt might repent. But Miss Beach seldom 
went back on her word, and was quite disposed and 
ready to act motor instructress. She began by ex- 
plaining very carefully the various levers, and how 
to start. 

“One golden rule,” she urged, “is to take care the 
lever is at neutral before you begin, or the car will 
jump on you. Many motorists have had nasty acci- 
dents by omitting that most necessary precaution. 
Next you must see that the ignition is pushed back, 
or you’ll get a back-fire in starting, and break your 
wrist. It must be just at this notch — do you see? 
Now you may swing round the handle.” 

The engine began to work, and Winona took her 
place in the driver’s seat. Miss Beach, sitting by her 
side, showed her how to put the low gear in, then 
to put in the clutch. The car started off under 
Winona’s guidance. 

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning 
it to right or left at first according to her aunt’s 


Winona Turns Chauffeur 201 

directions, but soon from instinctive comprehension. 
It was something like guiding a gigantic bicycle; 
she could not yet exactly estimate the amount of 
turn required, but she felt that it would come to her 
with practice. There was an immense exhilaration 
in feeling the car under her control. For a beginner, 
she really kept very steadily in the middle of the 
road; occasionally Aunt Harriet made a snatch at 
the wheel, but that was seldom necessary. They 
were going very slowly, only about ten miles an hour, 
but even that seemed a tolerable speed to a novice. 
The road was curving now, and Winona must steer 
round a corner; it was easier than she had expected, 
and her instructress ejaculated “Good!” The sense 
of balance was beginning to come to her. Such a 
tiny movement of the wheel sent the car to right 
or left; at first she had jerked it clumsily, now she 
could reckon the proportion with greater nicety. 
Was that something coming in the distance ? “Sound 
your hooter!” shouted Aunt Harriet quickly, as a 
motor cycle hove in sight. In rather a panic, 
Winona squeezed the india-rubber bulb, making the 
car lurch as she took her hand momentarily from 
the wheel. “Keep well to the left!” commanded 
Miss Beach, and Winona, with her heart in her 
mouth, contrived to obey, and passed her first vehicle 
successfully. She heaved a sigh of relief when it had 
whizzed by, and the road was once more clear. Nat- 
urally, however, she could not expect to keep a thor- 
oughfare all to herself. Further on, she overtook 
a farmer’s cart full of little squealing pigs. As It 
occupied the exact center of the road she hooted 


202 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

(with great confidence this time), and, when it had 
swung to the left, she rounded it successfully on the 
right. A furniture van looked a terrible obstacle, 
but she passed it without assistance, and began to 
wax quite courageous. Three motor cars in succes- 
sion tearing along one after another, and sounding 
ear-splitting electric hooters, left her nerves rather 
rocky. When houses and chimneys appeared in sight 
Miss Beach told her to stop. 

“I daren’t let a learner drive through a village. 
There are always too many children and dogs about 
the street. Change places with me now, and you 
shall try again when we come to a quiet road.” 

Rather thankful not to have to venture her ’pren- 
tice skill in the narrow winding street, Winona gave 
the wheel into her aunt’s more experienced hands. 
It was only pro tern., however, for when they were 
once more in the open country Miss Beach continued 
the lesson, making her start and stop several times 
just for practice. 

“I believe you know the routine now,” she said. 
‘‘It’s the motorist’s first catechism. Remember 
those cardinal rules, and you can’t go so far wrong.” 

‘‘Do experienced people ever forget them?” asked 
Winona. 

‘‘Sometimes, when they grow careless. Mr. 
Forster sprained his wrist the other day with a back- 
fire, which he ought to have avoided, and I heard 
of a horrible accident in Paris, when a chauffeur 
started his car with the clutch in gear, with the con- 
sequence that it dashed over a bridge into the Seine, 
and the occupants — a lady and two little children — 


.Winona Turns Chauffeur, 203 

were drowned before his eyes. There’s no need 
to be nervous if you take proper care, but cars are 
not playthings to be trifled with.” 

They had reached a part of the country which 
Miss Beach had known as a child. She had not 
visited It since, and was Interested to see again spots 
which had once been familiar. 

“I remember the river perfectly,” she said. 
“And that hill, with the wood where we used to get 
blackberries In the autumn. I wonder if the wild 
daffodils still grow in Chlpden Marsh! It’s fifty 
years since I gathered them 1 Shall we go and see ? 
They ought just to be out now, and it’s really not 
late yet.” 

Winona was only too delighted to prolong the 
day’s outing, and would not have demurred if Aunt 
Harriet had proposed returning home by moonlight. 
She caught eagerly at the suggestion of finding daf- 
fodils. Though half-a-century had sped by Miss 
Beach remembered the way, and drove through many 
by-lanes to a tract of low-lying pasture land that 
bordered the river. She had not forgotten the stile, 
which still remained as of yore, so leaving the car 
in the road they walked down the fields. At first 
they were disappointed, but further on, beside the 
river, the Marsh might well have been called “Daf- 
fodil Meadow.” Everywhere the lovely little wild 
Lent lilies were showing their golden trumpets in 
such profusion among the grass that the scene re- 
sembled Botticelli’s famous picture of spring. Miss 
Beach said little, but her eyes shone with reminis- 
cences. Winona was In ecstasies, and ran about 


204 The Luckiest Girl in School 

picking till her bunch was almost too big to hold. 
The slanting afternoon sunlight fell on the water 
with a glinting, glistening sheen; the sallows over- 
hanging the banks were yellow with pollen, the 
young pushing arum shoots and river herbs wore 
their tender early spring hue; the scene was an idyll 
in green and gold. They were loath to leave, but 
time was passing, so, very reluctantly, they walked 
up the fields again to rejoin the car. They had 
stowed their daffodils in the lunch basket, and 
Winona was peeping over the hedge to take a last 
look at the river, when an exclamation behind her 
made her turn round. Miss Beach was leaning 
heavily against the car, her face was ashen gray, 
her lips were white and drawn. She looked ready 
to faint. Winona flew to her in a panic. 

“What is it. Aunt Harriet? Are you ill? Get 
into the car and sit down. Let me help you !” 

Miss Beach sank on to the seat, and sat with half- 
closed eyes, moaning feebly. Winona was terribly 
alarmed. She had seen Aunt Harriet before with 
one of her bad heart attacks, and knew that re- 
storatives ought to be given. In this lonely spot, 
with no help at hand, what was to be done? Sup- 
pose her aunt were to faint — die, even, before aid 
could be rendered? For a moment Winona shook 
like a leaf. Then, with a rush, her presence of mind 
returned. There was only one possible course — she 
herself must start the car, and drive to within reach 
of civilization. It would need courage ! It was one 
thing to drive with an experienced instructor at her 
elbow to shout necessary directions, but quite an- 


Winona Turns Chauffeur, 205 

other to manage alone, with Aunt Harriet half un- 
conscious beside her. Suppose she were to forget 
part of her motorists’ catechism, and make some 
horrible, fatal mistake I Well, it must be ventured, 
all the same I Every minute’s delay was important. 

With a nervous shiver she forced herself to action. 
She looked first that the clutch was out of gear, and 
that the ignition was pushed back, then swung round 
the handle to start the engine. It had cooled while 
they were picking daffodils, and she was obliged to 
repeat the process four times ere the welcome whir- 
ring answered her efforts. She sprang to her seat, 
took off the brake, and put in the low gear. Then 
she put the clutch in with her foot. But alas! in 
her tremor and hurry she had done it too suddenly, 
and stopped the engine I She could have cried with 
annoyance at her stupidity. There was nothing for 
it but to put the lever again at neutral, put on the 
brake, and climb out to re-swing the handle. This 
time the engine, being warm, was more amiable and 
condescended to start easily. Winona leaped into 
the car, adjusted her levers, put in her clutch more 
gradually, and the car glided slowly away. With 
a feeling of desperation she gripped the steering 
wheel. The lane was narrow and twisting, and not 
too smooth. Suppose she were to meet a farm cart 
— could she possibly pass it in safety? She had a 
feeling that she would run into any vehicle that 
might approach her. So far the lane was empty, 
but at any moment an obstacle might arise. What 
was that? There was a sound of baa-ing, and round 
a corner ran a flock of sheep, urged on by a boy and 


2o 6 .The Luckiest Girl in School 

a collie dog. Here was the first human being she 
had seen, and for a second she thought of stopping to 
ask for help. But what could a stupid-looking young 
boy do for her? No, It were better far to push 
on. She managed to sound the hooter, and with a 
supreme effort kept in the middle of the lane, while 
the sheep scattered to right and left. She dared not 
go any slower, for fear of stopping her engine, but 
she expected every Instant to feel a bump, and find 
that she had run over one of the flock. The collie 
did his duty, however, and In a whirl of barking, 
shouting, and baa-Ing she steered safely through the 
danger. 

She looked anxiously at every turning, for fear 
she might Iniss her way. Her object was to regain 
the main road, where she might find some passing 
motorist, and implore help. Yes, there was the 
sign-post where Aunt Harriet had halted, she must 
keep to the left by that ruined cottage — she re- 
membered noticing Its broken roof as they had 
passed it. How interminably long the lanes were I 
They had seemed far shorter when Aunt Harriet 
was driving! Oh! thank goodness, there was the 
big oak tree — It could not be far now. A few 
minutes more and Winona had reached the sign- 
post, and swung round the corner Into the Crowland 
Road. She felt as if her nerves would not stand 
very much more. Would help never come? A dis- 
tant hooting behind her made her heart leap. She 
stopped the car beside the hedge, and standing up, 
waved her handkerchief as a signal of distress. A 
splendid Daimler came Into sight. Would the chauf- 


1 



“WINONA STOPPED THE CAR BESIDE THE HEDGE, AND, STANDING 
UP, WAVED HER HANDKERCHIEF AS A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS 





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Winona Turns Chauffeur 207 

feur notice and understand her plight? She shrieked 
in desperation as it whizzed past. Oh ! It was stop- 
ping! A gentleman got out, and walked quickly 
back towards her. She jumped down, and ran to 
meet him. 

“Can I be of any assistance?” he asked politely. 

“Oh, please! My aunt is very ill, and I don’t 
know how to drive properly yet. How am I going 
to get back to Seaton?” blurted out Winona, on the 
verge of tears. 

She never forgot how kind the stranger was. 
With the aid of his chauffeur he lifted poor Aunt 
Harriet into his own car, and told Winona to take 
her place beside her. 

“Now tell me exactly where you want to go,” 
he said, “and I’ll run you straight home as fast as I 
can. My man shall follow with your car. You can 
manage this little two-seater, Jones?” 

“Yes, Sir,” grinned the chauffeur, inspecting the 
levers. 

The stranger made his big Daimler fly. Winona 
never knew by how much he exceeded the speed 
limit, but it seemed to her that they must be spinning 
along at the rate of nearly fifty miles an hour. Aunt 
Harriet had recovered a little, though she still 
moaned at intervals. The hedges seemed to whirl 
past them, they went hooting through villages, and 
whizzed over a common. At last the familiar spires 
and towers of Seaton appeared in the distance. 
Their good Samaritan drove them to their own door, 
helped Miss Beach into the house, and volunteered 
to take a message to the doctor, then, evading 


2o 8 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Winona’s thanks, he sprang into his car, and started 
away. 

The chauffeur arrived later with Miss Beach’s car, 
and considerately offered to run it round to the 
garage. 

Aunt Harriet was laid up for several days after 
this episode, and Dr. Sidwell forbade any long ex- 
peditions in the immediate future. He encouraged 
the idea of Winona learning to drive. 

“You could be of the greatest help in taking your 
aunt about,” he said to her. “You must have a 
capital notion of it, or you couldn’t have brought 
the car three miles entirely on your own. But of 
course you’ll need practice before you can be trusted 
to mix in traffic. You’ll have to apply for a license, 
remember. You’ll be getting into trouble if you 
drive without!” 

Winona looked back upon that outing as a most 
memorable occasion. She hoped to try her skill 
again as soon as opportunity offered. The charm 
of the wheel was alluring. She wished she knew the 
name of the stranger who had rendered such invalua- 
ble assistance. But that she never learnt. 


CHAPTER XVI 


The Athletic Display 

The Easter term was passing quickly away. It 
had been a strenuous but nevertheless successful sea- 
son Out of nine hockey matches the team had lost 
only three — ^not a bad record for a school that was 
still in the infancy of its Games reputation. The 
Old Girls’ Guild had got up its eleven, and had 
practiced with enthusiasm under the captaincy of 
KIrsty Paterson. A most exciting Past versus Pres- 
ent match had been played, resulting in a narrow 
victory for the school. Winona felt prouder of this 
success than of any other triumph the team had 
scored, for Kirsty had congratulated her afterwards, 
and praise from her former captain was very sweet. 
It had been the last match of the season, so it made 
a satisfactory finish to her work. She felt quite sen- 
timental as she put by her hockey-stick. Next season 
there would be a fresh captain, and she would have 
left the High School ! She wished she were staying 
another year, but her scholarship would expire at 
the end of July. She could hardly believe that she 
had been nearly two years at the school, and that 
only one term more remained to her. Well, It would 
be the summer term, which was the pleasantest of 
all, and though hockey was over, she had the cricket 
season before her. The Seaton High should score; 

209 


210 The Luckiest Girl in School 

at the wicket if it were in her power to coach a 
successful team. 

Towards the end of March Winona had an inter- 
lude which for the time took her thoughts even 
from the omnipresent topic of sports. Percy, who 
had been in training with his regiment at Duncastle, 
was ordered to the Front. He was allowed thirty- 
six hours’ leave, and came home for a Sunday. 
Winona spent that week-end at Highfield, and the 
memory of it always remained a very precious one. 
Percy in his khaki seemed much changed, and 
though she only had him for a few minutes quite 
to herself, she felt that the old tie between them 
had strengthened. Her letters to him in future 
would be different. During the last year they had 
both slacked a little in their correspondence, each 
perhaps unconsciously feeling that the other’s stand- 
point was changing; now they had met again on a 
new basis, and realized once more a common bond 
of sympathy. Percy, absorbed in describing his 
new life, scarcely mentioned Aunt Harriet. The 
episode of the burning of the paper seemed to have 
faded from his memory, or he had conveniently 
buried it in oblivion. Winona had never forgotten 
it. It remained still the one shadow in her career 
at Seaton. Now especially, since Miss Beach’s re- 
cent ill-health, the secret weighed heavily upon her. 
She felt her aunt ought to know that the will was 
destroyed, so that she might take the opportunity 
of making another. More than once she tried in- 
directly to refer to the_ subject, but it was a tender 
topic, and at the least hint Miss Beach’s face would 


The Athletic Display 21 1 

stiffen and her voice harden; the old barrier between 
them would rise up again wider than ever, and im- 
possible to be spanned. Winona would have been 
glad to do much for her aunt, but Miss Beach did 
not care to be treated as an invalid. Like many en- 
ergetic people, she refused to acknowledge that she 
was ill, and the acceptance of little services seemed 
to her a confession of her own weakness. It is 
rather hard to have your kindly meant efforts re- 
pulsed, so Winona, finding that her offers of sym- 
pathy met with no response, drew back into her 
shell, and the two continued to live as before, on 
terms of friendship but never of intimacy. After 
almost two years spent in the same house Winona 
knew her aunt little better than on the day of her 
arrival. They had certain common grounds for con- 
versation, but their mutual reserve was maintained, 
and as regarded each other’s real thoughts they 
remained “strangers yet.’’ 

Miss Beach, however, took an interest in Winona’s 
doings at school. She read her monthly reports, 
and scolded her if her work had fallen below stand- 
ard. She expressed a guarded pleasure over success- 
ful matches, but rubbed in the moral that games must 
not usurp her attention to the detriment of her form 
subjects. 

“You came here to learn something more than 
hockey I” she would remind Winona. “It’s a splen- 
did exercise, but I’m afraid it won’t prove a career ! 
I should like to see a better record for Latin and 
Chemistry; they might very well have more atten- 
tion!” 


212 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Winona had tried to persuade her aunt to come 
and watch one of the matches, but Miss Beach had 
always found some engagement; she was concerned 
in so many of the city’s activities that her time was 
generally carefully mapped out weeks beforehand. 
She consented, however, to accept Miss Bishop’s 
invitation to the Gymnasium Display, which was to 
be given at the High School at the close of the Easter 
term. 

This was a very important occasion in the estima- 
tion of the girls. It was their first athletic show 
since the advent of Miss Barbour, the Swedish drill 
mistress. Governors and parents were to be pres- 
ent, and the excellence of the performance must jus- 
tify the large amount which had been spent upon 
gymnastic apparatus during the past year. 

For two whole terms Miss Barbour had been 
teaching and training her classes with a view to this 
exhibition, and woe betide any unlucky wight whose 
nerves, memory or muscles should fail her at the 
critical moment! A further impetus was given to 
individual effort by the offer, on the part of one of 
the Governors, of four medals for competition, to 
be awarded respectively to the best candidates in 
four classes. Seniors over i6. Intermediates from 13 
to 16, Juniors from 10 to 13, and Preparatories un- 
der 10. It was felt throughout the school that the 
offer was munificent. The Governors had been 
stingy over the matter of the hockey field, and had 
been reviled accordingly, but Councillor Jackson was 
retrieving the character of the Board by this action, 
and the girls reversed their opinion in his favor. 


The Athletic Display 213 

They hoped that other Governors, warmed by his 
example, might open their hearts in silver medals 
or book prizes for future occasions. 

“He’s a dear old trump to think of it I” said 
Winona. 

“You drew a picture of him floundering in the 
mud at hockey!” twinkled Garnet. 

“Well, I forgive him now, and I’ll draw another 
of him standing on the platform, all beaming with 
benevolence, and distributing medals broadcast. 
Look here, Bessie Kirk, you needn’t be congratulat- 
ing yourself beforehand with such a patently self- 
satisfied smirk, because Vm going to win the Senior 
Medal.” 

“No, you’re not, my child! Take it patiently, 
and compose your mind. The medal’s coming this 
way!” 

“How about me?” put in Marjorie Kemp. 

“You’ll do well, but you’re not a champion! 
You’re too fat, Jumbo, and that’s the fact. You’re 
all right when it’s a question of brute strength, but 
when agility matters, those superfluous pounds 
of flesh of yours are an impediment. I’d back 
Joyce sooner than you; she’s as light as a 
feather!” 

Hearing herself commended, Joyce fluttered up 
to the group, smiling. 

“I did four feet six, yesterday,” she announced, 
“and I’d have cleared four feet seven, I believe, 
only I had to stop. It’s always my luck!” 

“Why had you to stop?” 

“My back ached!” 


214 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Instant apprehension overspread the faces of her 
friends. 

“Joyce Newton!” exclaimed Winona, “you’re 
never going to get small-pox again, and stop the 
athletic display?” 

“You don’t feel sick, or head-achy, or sore- 
throaty, do you?” implored Bessie. “For goodness 
sake stand away, if you’re infectious! I don’t want 
to be another contact case!” 

“What pigs you are!” said Joyce plaintively. 
“One can’t catch small-pox twice !” 

“But you might be going to get scarlet fever, or 
measles, or even Influenza!” 

“Stop ragging! Mayn’t I have a back-ache if I 
want? It’s my own back!” 

“Have as many back-aches as you choose, my 
hearty, but don’t disseminate germs ! If the athletic 
display doesn’t come off. I’ll break my heart, and 
you can write an epitaph over me : 

“Here lies one who young in years, 

Left this mortal vale of tears; 

Cruel fate hath knocked her down, 

Torn from her the laurel crown, 

To win the gym display she sighed, 

But as she might not jump, she died !” 

“Look here!” said Marjorie. “I suppose the: 
medal lies fairly well between us four. I vote that 
we make a compact — whoever wins treats the other 
three to ices ! It would be some compensation for 
losing!” 


The Athletic Display 215 

“Good for you, Jumbo! I’m game!” agreed 
Bessie. 

“If you’ll undertake they’ll be strawberry ices!” 
stipulated Winona. 

“I mayn’t eat ices, they disagree with me !” wailed 
Joyce, “but if you’ll make it chocolates.” 

“Done! I won’t forget. Ices for Bessie and 
Winona, and a packet of Cadbury’s for Joyce. I’ll 
go and be ordering them!” chirruped Marjorie, 
dancing away. 

“Cheek! Don’t make so sure.” 

“It’s my medal, so be getting your handkerchiefs 
ready,” maintained Winona. 

Though Winona, just for the fun of teasing her 
friends, had pretended to appropriate the prize, she 
had really no anticipation of winning. She was 
fairly good at gymnasium work, but could not be 
considered a champion. She knew her success or 
failure would depend very much on luck. If she 
happened to feel in the right mood she might achieve 
something, but it was an even chance that at the 
critical moment her courage might fail her. In a 
match she was generally swept away by the intense 
feeling of cooperation, the knowledge that all her 
team were striving for a common cause buoyed her 
up, but in a competition where each was for herself, 
the element of nervousness would have greater 
scope. When she thought about it, she felt that 
she would probably be shaking with fright. 

The great day came at last. The Gymnasium was 
decorated with flags in honor of the occasion, and 
pots of palms were placed upon the platform where 


2i 6 Xhe Luckiest Girl in School 

the Governors and a few of the most distinguished 
visitors were accommodated with seats. Winona, 
marching in to take part in the senior drill, gave one 
glance round the building, and grasped the fact that 
Aunt Harriet was sitting on the platform next to 
Councillor Jackson, and only a few places away from 
the expert who was to act as judge. She was chat- 
ting affably with her august companions. Think 
of chatting with a Governor! Winona felt that 
it was some credit to have such a relation! She 
had not always been very sure how much she valued 
Aunt Harriet’s opinion, but this afternoon she 
longed to shine before her. Yet the very wish to 
do so made her nervous. She glanced at her com- 
panions. Bessie was looking stolidity itself, Mar- 
jorie’s usually high color had reached peony point, 
Joyce was palpably in the throes of stage fright. 
All were soon marching and countermarching, swing- 
ing Indian clubs, and performing the intricate maneu- 
vers of Swedish drill. Fortunately they had prac- 
ticed well, and it went without a hitch. They 
breathed more freely as they retired to the ante- 
room to make way for the babies who were to do 
skipping exercises to music. 

“It’s more awful to show off before Governors 
than I expected!” sighed Joyce. “I’m just shiver- 
ing!” 

“What’ll you be at the rings, then?” asked Bessie. 

“Silence !” urged Miss Lever, who was in charge 
of the ante-room. 

The strains of “Little Grey Home in the West” 


The Athletic Display 217 

and the regular thud of small feet were wafted 
from the gymnasium. 

“Don’t you wish you were a kid again?” whis- 
pered Joyce. 

“No, I don’t!” retorted Bessie, so imprudently 
loud that Miss Lever glared at her. 

“It’s horrid having to stay in here, where one 
can’t see!” murmured Marjorie under her breath. 

They knew by the music, however, what was 
taking place. The juniors were doing wand exer- 
cises, the intermediates followed with clubs. 

“Our turn again soon,” whispered Winona. 

Olave Parry, from a vantage post near the door, 
could see into the gymnasium, and report progress. 
Her items of news passed in whispers down the 
ranks. The babies had skipped like a row of cher- 
ubs, and the Governors were wreathed in smiles. 
Kitty Carter had dropped one of her clubs, and it 
nearly hit a visitor on the head, but fortunately 
missed her by half an inch. Laura Marshall was 
performing prodigies on the horizontal ladder — she 
undoubtedly had a chance for a medal. Bursts of 
applause from the audience punctuated the per- 
formance. Olave continued her report, which Miss 
Lever, who took occasional excursions into the gym- 
nasium, verified from time to time. The juniors 
were competing now. Natalie Powers was about to 
do the ring exercises. It was a swing and a pull-up 
in front, and she managed that neatly, but when it 
came to the swing and the turn, she lost her nerve, 
turned too soon and spun round helplessly in the 


21 8 The Luckiest Girl in School 


air until Miss Barbour hurried to her aid. Natalie 
was done for, without doubt ! It was a good thing 
she had not fallen and hurt herself. Her rivals 
were rope-climbing. Madge Collins had reached the 
top in six seconds, and was sliding down again, to 
the accompaniment of loud clapping. Lennie Rob- 
erts had beaten her, for she had performed the same 
feat in exactly five seconds. The juniors were in a 
ferment of excitement. The interest of the audience 
had waxed to enthusiasm point. 

“Seniors !” announced Miss Lever briefly, and the 
row of waiting figures in the ante-room fell into line, 
and marched into the gymnasium for the special 
trials. The Swedish drill exercises, where all worked 
together, had not seemed half so formidable. A well 
practiced part is not easily forgotten even by a 
nervous girl, if it must be done in company with 
others. It was another matter, however, to perform 
single athletic feats before a big audience. For a 
moment Winona turned almost dizzy with fright. 
The big room seemed full of eyes, every one of 
which would be watching her when it came to her 
turn. She looked round with the feeling of a martyr 
in the arena, and for a moment met the calm steady 
gaze of Miss Beach. Winona said afterwards that 
Aunt Harriet must have mesmerized her, for in that 
second of recognition she felt a sudden rush of cour- 
age. The thrill of the contest took possession of 
her, and every nerve and muscle, every atom of her 
brain, was alert to do its best. She would let Aunt 
Harriet see that, though she might fail sometimes in 
form work, she could hold her own at gymnastics. 


The Athletic Display 219 

Contestants climbed, traveled on rings, and 
vaulted the horse. Winona seemed to herself as 
easy and agile as she had ever been. She had a pos- 
sible chance of winning, and her heart exulted. Then 
came the ladders. Up and up she went, holding 
herself now by her hands and now by her feet swing- 
ing for her hold. She had thought she was light, but 
now she suddenly realized how heavy she was ! She 
summoned every bit of strength as she went down 
the ladder. From one contest to another she passed, 
doing her best. 

Last of all came the rings. Winona swung out, 
grasped the next ring, and so on down the line. Oh, 
how many there were! She had never before re- 
alized what it meant to weigh 7 st. 10 lbs. She held 
her breath as she reached for the next ring, but it 
slipped from her fingers. Only for a second, how- 
ever, for she caught it on the next swing, and a 
moment later was waiting at the end. Bessie was 
just starting. Down the line she traveled, not so 
gracefully, perhaps, as Winona, but catching her ring 
on every swing. Joyce followed, but mid-way her 
courage deserted her, and she failed utterly. Mar- 
jorie came next. She was doing well surely! She 
was nearly through, reached for the last ring, missed 
it, and fell ! There was an instant murmur of con- 
sternation from the audience. Was she injured? 
She sprang up unhurt, however, though deeply hu- 
miliated. 

Thrilling in every nerve, Winona started back. 
Refreshed by her little rest, she swung lightly, stead- 
ily and unfalteringly, never missing a ring till she 


220 


The Luckiest Girl in School 

came to the end. She was almost too occupied to 
notice the cheers. Bessie reached mid-way, then 
missed a ring, caught it on the second swing, missed 
another, and reached for it three times before she 
caught it and finished her course. 

The girls had been too much excited for com- 
parisons. They scarcely guessed how their averages 
would stand. Winona had a general impression that 
Bessie had scored at vaulting, and Marjorie had un- 
doubtedly cleared the rope at four feet eight. Her 
own performances seemed lost in a haze; she had 
noticed the judge jot down something, but she felt 
incapable of reckoning her chances. 

The judge was conferring with Miss Bishop at the 
back of the platform, and while the room waited for 
their decision the school marched, singing an Empire 
song. 

At last the judge stepped to the front of the 
platform. The singing ceased. Winona’s heart beat 
suffocatingly. 

“I have great pleasure in giving the results,” an- 
nounced the judge. “Preparatory prize, Elaine 
Jennings; Junior prize, Lennie Roberts; Intermedi- 
ate prize, Laura Marshall; Senior prize, Winona 
Woodward.” 

The applause was ringing out lustily. Bessie, 
Marjorie and Joyce were pressing congratulations 
upon her. Miss Bishop (actually the Head!) was 
looking at her and smiling approval. Miss Lever 
was telling her to walk forward. In a delirious 
whirl, Winona climbed the steps on the platform. 
As Councillor Jackson pinned the medal on to her 


The Athletic Display 221 

tunic, a storm of clapping and cheers rose from the 
school. Their Games Captain was popular, and 
everybody felt it right and fitting that this afternoon 
she should have proved herself the athletic cham- 
pion. 

“Don’t forget the ices I” whispered Bessie, as 
Winona rejoined Marjorie and Joyce. 

“We’ll stop at the cafe on the way home, and you 
shall each choose what you like 1” declared Winona, 
with spendthrift liberality. 


CHAPTER XVII 
Back to the Land 

Easter fell late, so Winona spent the lovely early 
part of May at her own home. After so many 
weeks of town it was delightful to be once more 
in the country. She worked with enthusiasm in the 
garden, mowed the lawn, and with Letty and 
Mamie’s help began to put up an arbor, over which 
she hoped to persuade a crimson rambler to ramble 
successfully. In the house she tried her hand at 
scones and cakes, entirely to the children’s satisfac- 
tion, if not altogether to her own; she enjoyed exper- 
iments in cooking, for she had longed to join the Do- 
mestic Science class at school, and had felt aggrieved 
when Miss Bishop decided that her time-table was 
full enough without it. She found her mother look- 
ing delicate and worried. Poor Mrs. Woodward’s 
health had not improved during the last two years; 
she was nervous, anxious about Percy, and inclined 
to be fretful and tearful. The increased income- 
tax and the added cost of living made her constantly 
full of financial cares; she was not a very good man- 
ager, and the thought of the future oppressed her. 

“I don’t know what’s to be done with you, 
Winona, when you leave school!” she remarked 
plaintively one evening. “I feel that you ought to 
go in for something, but I’m sure I don’t know what I 


222 


Back to the Land 223 

I’d hoped you were going to turn out clever, and 
win a scholarship for College, and get a good post 
as a teacher afterwards, but there doesn’t seem the 
least chance of your doing that. It’s all very well 
this hockey and cricket that’s made such a fuss of 
at schools nowadays, but it doesn’t seem to me that 
it’s going to lead to anything. I’d rather you stuck 
to your books! Yes, your future’s worrying me 
very much. I’ve all these little ones to bring up 
and educate, and I’d hoped you’d be able to earn 
your own living before long, and lend the children 
a helping hand. I can’t spend anything on giving 
you an expensive training, Percy has cost me so 
much out of capital, and it’s Letty’s turn next, be- 
sides which it’s high time Ernie and Godfrey were 
packed off to a boarding-school. Oh, dear! I never 
seem free from trouble ! It’s no light anxiety to be 
the mother of seven children ! I often wonder what 
will become of you all !” 

To Winona her mother’s tearful confidences came 
as a shock. Up to the present she had been so 
intensely interested in school affairs that she had 
given scarcely a thought to her future career. Life 
had existed for her in detail only to the end of the 
summer term, after that it had stretched a nebulous 
void into which her imagination had never troubled 
to penetrate. Now she took herself seriously to 
task, and tried to face the prospect of the time when 
she would have left the Seaton High School. There 
were many occupations open to girls nowadays be- 
sides teaching; they could be doctors, secretaries, san- 
itary inspectors, artists, musicians, poultry farmers. 


224 The Luckiest Girl in School 

She knew however, that for any career worth taking 
up a considerable training would be necessary, and 
a certain amount of expense involved. What she 
would have liked very much would be to study at a 
Physical Training College, and qualify to become a 
Drill and Games Mistress, but this seemed as un- 
attainable as taking a medical course or going to 
Girton or Newnham. 

“I’m too young yet for a hospital nurse,’’ she 
pondered, “and not clever enough to be an artist or 
a musician. Well, I suppose I can make munitions, 
or go on the land! Women are wanted on farms 
while the war lasts. I could earn my own living, 
perhaps. But oh, dear I That wouldn’t be boosting 
on the children I I’m afraid mother’s fearfully dis- 
appointed with me.’’ 

She seemed to be looking at things in a new light, 
and to see her position as it affected others. She was 
young and brave; surely it was her part to shoulder 
the family burdens, to shield the frail little mother 
who grew less and less able to cope with difficulties, 
to hold out a strong helping hand to the younger 
brothers and sisters, and so justify her existence on 
this planet. It had not before occurred to her how 
much her home people relied on her. The thought 
of it brought a great lump into her throat. She 
must not fail them. She could not yet see her way 
clearly, but somehow she must be a comfort and a 
support to them, that she was quite resolved. 

She went back to school in a very thoughtful frame 
of mind. Her last term would be a full one in many 
ways. About half of the Sixth Form were to go 


Back to the Land 225 

in for their college entrance examinations, and Miss 
Bishop had decreed that Winona, as a County Schol- 
arship holder, must certainly be among the number. 
She had little hope of passing, for most of her sub- 
jects were weak, but she meant to make an effort to 
try to pick up some of her lost ground. Her old 
enemies, Latin and Chemistry, still often baffled her, 
and her memory was only moderately retentive. She 
could not honestly believe that so far as her work 
was concerned she was any credit to the school. 
Games were another matter, however, and so long 
as they did not seriously interfere with her prepara- 
tion for the matriculation, she meant to do her duty 
as captain. She arranged cricket fixtures and tennis 
tournaments, and though she could not devote as 
much of her own time as she would have liked to 
practice, she spurred on others who had more leisure 
than herself. She certainly possessed a gift for or- 
ganization. There are some captains, splendid play- 
ers themselves, who can never train their deputies. 
As Napoleon’s genius was supposed to lie largely 
in his capacity for picking out able generals, so 
Winona proved her ability by choosing helpers who 
were of real service to her. With Audrey Redfern, 
Emily Cooper, and Bertha March to the fore, she 
hoped that both cricket and tennis would prosper, 
and that the school would score as successfully dur- 
ing the summer as It had done in the hockey season. 

On the first Saturday after the beginning of the 
term. Miss Beach announced that she was going to 
spend the day with a friend who lived five miles out 
of Seaton, and that if Winona had leisure to ac- 


226 The Luckiest Girl in School 

company her she would be pleased to take her. No 
practices had been arranged for that afternoon, so 
Winona felt free to accept the invitation. She had 
been for several short runs in the car, but for no 
long expedition since the memorable outing to Wick- 
borough, so the prospect of a day in the country 
was alluring. 

They started at about eleven o’clock, and took 
a road that was new to Winona, consequently all 
the more interesting. Their way led through lovely 
woods, at present a sheet of blue hyacinths, the 
hedges were a filmy dream of blackthorn blossom, 
while the swallows wheeling and flashing in the sun- 
shine testified to the return of summer. 

Miss Carson, the lady whom they were going to 
visit, like most of Aunt Harriet’s friends was en- 
gaged in very interesting work. She had taken a 
small holding, and with the help of a few women 
pupils was running it as a fruit, flower and poultry 
farm. The house, an old cottage, to which she had 
added a wing, was charmingly pretty. It was long 
and low, with a thick thatched roof, and a porch 
overgrown with starry white clematis. A budding 
vine covered the front and in the border below great 
clumps of stately yellow lilies drooped their queenly 
heads. The front door led straight into the house 
place, a square room with a big fire-place and cozy 
ingle nooks. It was very simply furnished, but 
looked most artistic with its rush-bottomed chairs, 
its few good pictures, and its stained green table with 
the big bowl of wallflowers. 

Miss Carson, a delightfully energetic lady whose 


Back to the Land 227 

age may have been somewhere between thirty and 
forty, welcomed them cordially. 

“I don’t apologize for the plainness of my estab- 
lishment,” she remarked. “It’s all part of a pur- 
pose. We have no servants here, and as we have 
to do our own house-work in addition to our farm- 
work, we want to reduce our labor to a minimum. 
You see, there’s hardly anything to dust In this 
room: the books and the china are In those two 
cupboards with glass doors, and we have no frip- 
peries at all lying about. The only ornament we 
allow ourselves is the bowl of flowers. Our bed- 
rooms are equally simple, and our kitchen Is fitted 
with the latest and most up-to-date labor-saving ap- 
pliances. One of my students is preparing the din- 
ner there now. She’s a nice girl, and Winona will 
perhaps like to go and talk to her, unless she prefers 
to stay here with us.” 

Winona promptly decided in favor of the kitchen, 
so Miss Carson escorted her there, and Introduced 
her to Miss Heald, a jolly-looking girl of about 
twenty, who, enveloped In a blue overall pinafore, 
was putting plates to heat, and inspecting the con- 
tents of certain bollerettes and casseroles. Like the 
sitting-room the kitchen contained no unnecessary 
articles. It was spotlessly clean, and looked very 
business-like. 

“We go on kitchen duty for a week at a time,” 
explained Miss Heald to Winona. “It’s a part of 
the course, you know. We have dairy, gardening 
and poultry as well. Which do I like best? It’s 
hard to say. Poultry, I think, because the chickens 


228 The Luckiest Girl in School 

are such darlings. I’ll show you all round the place 
this afternoon, when I’ve finished washing up. I’m 
going to lay the table now. You can help if you 
like.” 

Precisely at one o’clock the seven other students 
came in from their work. Each was dressed in her 
farm uniform, short serge skirt, woolen jersey, blue 
overall and thick boots. To judge from their looks, 
their occupation was both healthy and congenial, in 
physique they were Hebes, and their spirits seemed 
at bubbling point. Apparently they all adored Miss 
Carson. The latter made a few inquiries as to the 
morning’s progress, and the capable answers testified 
to the knowledge of the learners. The dinner did 
credit to Miss Heald’s skill; it was well cooked and 
daintily served. Winona was full of admiration; 
her culinary experience was limited so far to cakes 
and scones; she felt that she would have been very 
proud if she had compounded that stew, and baked 
those custards. When the meal was finished the 
students tramped forth again to their outdoor labor, 
while Miss Heald cleared away. Winona begged 
to be allowed to help her, and was initiated into the 
mysteries of the very latest and most sanitary method 
of washing up, with the aid of mop, dish-rack, and 
some patent appliances. It was so interesting that 
she quite enjoyed it. She swept the kitchen, filled 
kettles at the pump, and did several other odd jobs; 
then, everything being left in an absolutely immac- 
ulate condition. Miss Heald declared that she was 
ready, and offered to take her companion for a tour 
of inspection round the farm. 


Back to the Land 229 

The little holding had been well planned, and was 
skillfully arranged. In front was the garden, a large 
piece of ground stretching down to the hedge that 
bordered the road. Miss Carson’s original idea had 
been the culture of flowers, partly for the sale of 
their blossoms, and partly for the preservation of 
their seeds, but the national need of producing food 
crops during the war had induced her to plant almost 
the whole of it with fruit and vegetables. At present 
it somewhat resembled a village allotment. Patches 
of peas and broad beans were coming up well. 
Groups of gooseberry bushes were thriving. Straw- 
berry beds were being carefully weeded, and two 
of the students were erecting posts round them, over 
which nets would be hung later on to protect the 
fruit from the birds. 

“Birds are our greatest pest here,” explained Miss 
Heald. “One may like them from a natural history 
point of view, but you get to hate the little wretches 
when you see them devouring everything wholesale. 
They’ve no conscience. Those small coletits can 
creep through quite fine meshes, and simply strip 
the peas, and the blackbirds would guzzle all day 
if they had the chance. I want to borrow an air 
gun and pot at them, but Miss Carson won’t let me. 
She’s afraid I might shoot some of the other stu- 
dents.” 

A row of cucumber frames and some greenhouses 
stood at the bottom of the garden. The latter were 
mostly devoted to young tomato plants, though one 
was specially reserved for vegetable marrows. The 
students had to learn how to manage and regulate 


230 fThe Luckiest Girl in School 

the heating apparatus of the houses, as well as to 
understand the culture of the plants. 

“I left a window open once,” confessed Miss 
Heald. “I remembered it when I had been about 
an hour in bed, and I jumped up and dressed In a 
hurry, and went out with a lantern to shut it. For- 
tunately there was no frost that night, or all the 
seedlings might have been killed. It was a most 
dreadful thing to forget! I thought Miss Carson 
would have jumped on me, but she was ever so nice 
about it.” 

Despite the predominance of foodstuffs there were 
a few flowers in the garden, clumps of forget-me- 
not and narcissus, purple iris, golden saxifrages and 
scarlet anemones. There were fragrant bushes of 
lavender and rosemary, and beds of sweet herbs, 
thyme, and basil and fennel and salsafy, for Miss 
Carson believed In some of the old-fashioned reme- 
dies, and made salves and ointments and hair washes 
from the products of her garden. The orchard, full 
of pink-blossomed apple trees, was a refreshing sight. 
They opened a little gate, and walked under a wealth 
of drooping flowers to the poultry yard that lay 
at the further side. Everything here was on the 
most up-to-date system. Pens of beautiful white Leg- 
horns, Black Mlnorcas and Buff Orpingtons were 
kept In wired Inclosures, each with its own henhouse 
and scratching-shed full of straw. Miss Heald took 
Winona Inside to Inspect the patent nesting-boxes, 
and the grit-cutting machine. She also showed her 
the Incubators. 

“They’re empty now, but you should have seen 


Back to the Land 231 

them in the early spring, when they were full of 
eggs,” she explained. “It was a tremendous anxiety 
to keep the lamps properly regulated. Miss Nelson 
and I sat up all night once when some prize ducklings 
were hatching. It was cold weather, and they 
weren’t very strong, so they needed a little help. 
It’s the most frightfully delicate work to help a chick 
out of its shell ! It makes a little chip with its beak, 
and then sometimes it can’t get any further, and you 
have gently to crack the hole bigger. Unless you’re 
very careful you may kill it, but on the other hand, 
if it can’t burst its shell when it’s ready to hatch, it 
may suffocate, so it’s a choice of evils. We put them 
in the drying pen first, and then in the ‘foster mother.’ 
They’re like babies, and have to be fed every two 
hours. It’s a tremendous business when you have 
hundreds of them, at different stages and on different 
diets. We seemed to be preparing food all day long. 
It’s ever so fascinating, though!” 

“I love them when they’re like fluffy canaries,” 
said Winona. 

“Yes, so do I. I had a special sitting of little 
ducklings under my charge, and they got very tame. 
I put them into a basket one day, and carried them 
into the garden to pick up worms. I put them down 
on a bed, and while my back was turned for a few 
minutes they cleared a whole row of young cabbages 
that Miss Morrison had just planted. I got into 
fearful trouble, and had to pack up my proteges and 
take them back to their coop in disgrace. I’d never 
dreamed they would devour green stuff! We have 
to learn to keep strict accounts of the poultry; we 


232 The Luckiest Girl in School 

put down the number of eggs daily, and the weekly 
food bill, and the chickens sold, and make a kind 
of register, with profit and loss. Miss Carson runs 
everything on a most business-like basis.” 

Miss Heald showed Winona the store-room, 
where meal and grain were kept, the big pans in 
which food was mixed, the boxes for packing eggs, 
and the little medicine cupboard containing remedies 
for sick fowls. All was beautifully orderly and well 
arranged, and a card of rules for the help of the 
students hung on the walls. 

From the poultry department they passed to the 
Dairy Section. The four sleek cows were out in the 
field, but in a loose box there were some delightful 
calves that ran to greet Miss Heald, pressing eager 
damp noses into her hand, and exhibiting much 
apparent disappointment that she did not offer them 
a pailful of milk and oatmeal. Winona inspected 
the cool, scrupulously clean dairy, with its patent 
churn, and slate slabs for making up the butter. 
She saw the bowls where the cream was kept, 
and the wooden print with which the pats were 
marked. 

“Butter-making is the side of the business I don’t 
care for,” admitted Miss Heald. “I like the gar- 
dening fairly well, and I just love the poultry, but 
I don’t take to dairy work. Of course it’s a part 
of my training, so I’m obliged to do It, but when 
my time here Is over, I mean to make hens my 
specialty, and go In for poultry farming. An open- 
air life suits me. It’s a thousand times nicer than 
being a nurse at a hospital, or a secretary at an 


Back to the Land 233 

office. You’re In the fresh air all day, and the chicks 
are so Interesting.” 

A pen of young turkey poults, a flock of goslings, 
and a sty full of Infant pigs were next on exhibition. 
Miss Heald showed off the latter with pride. 

“They’re rather darlings, and I own to a weakness 
for them,” she admitted. “We put them in a bath 
and scrub them, and they’re really so intelligent. 
Wasn’t It the poet Herrick who had a pet pig? 
.This little chap’s as sharp as a needle. I believe I 
could teach him tricks directly, if I tried! Miss 
■Carson says I mustn’t let myself grow too fond 
of all the creatures, because their ultimate end is 
bacon or the bollerette, and it doesn’t do to be senti- 
mental over farming; but I can’t help it! I just love 
some of the chickens ; they come flying up on to my 
shoulder like pigeons.” 

A rough-coated pony formed part of the estab- 
lishment. Twice a week he was harnessed to the 
trap, and Miss Carson and one of the students drove 
to Seaton to dispose of the farm produce. Miss 
Carson had undertaken to supply several hotels and 
restaurants with eggs, fowls and vegetables, and so 
far had found the demand for her goods exceeded 
the supply. Labor was at present her greatest diffi- 
culty. Her students accomplished the light work, 
but could not do heavy digging. She managed to 
secure the occasional services of a farm hand, but 
with most able-bodied men at the war the problem 
of trenching or of making an asparagus bed was 
almost impossible to solve. 

At the end of the orchard, against a south hedge 


234 The Luckiest Girl in School 

of thick holly, stood the hives. Bee-keeping was 
one of the most successful ventures of the holding. 
Last autumn had shown a splendid yield of honey, 
and this year, judging by the activity of the bees, an 
equal harvest might be expected. There was con- 
tinuous humming among the apple blossoms, and 
every minute pollen-laden workers were hurrying 
home with their spoils. Miss Heald lifted the lid 
of one of the hives, to show Winona the comb within. 
She observed caution, however. 

“They don’t know me very well,” she explained. 
“They have their likes and dislikes. Miss Hunter 
can let them crawl all over her hands and arms, and 
they never sting her. She must have a natural 
attraction for them. They recognize a stranger 
directly. No, I’m not particularly fond of them. I 
prefer pigs and chickens.” 

Miss Carson and Aunt Harriet had also been go- 
ing the round of the farm, and came up to inspect 
the hives. Miss Beach was greatly interested In 
her friend’s work, and full of congratulations. 

“Such women as you are the backbone of the 
country!” she declared. “The next best thing to 
fighting is to provide food for the nation. England 
Is capable of producing twice her annual yield If 
there is proper organization. I’m a great advocate 
of small holdings, and I think women can’t show 
their patriotism better than by going ‘back to the 
land.’ You and your students are indeed ‘doing your 
bit’ ! You make me want to come and help you 1” 

It was such a delicious warm afternoon that chairs 
were carried outside, and they had tea in the garden 


Back to the Land 235 

under a gorgeous pink-blossomed almond tree, with 
the perfume of wallflowers and sweet scented stocks 
wafted from the rockery above. Two cats and a 
dog joined the party, also an impudent bantam 
cock, who, being considered the mascot of the estab- 
lishment, was much petted, and allowed certain priv- 
ileges. He would sit on Miss Carson’s wrist like 
a little tame hawk, and she sometimes brought him 
into the garden at tea-time to give him tit-bits. 

At 4.30 all the fowls and chickens were fed, a 
tremendous business, at which Winona looked on 
with enthusiasm. She admired the systematic way 
in which the food was measured and distributed so 
that each individual member of the flock received 
its due share, and was not robbed by a greedier and 
stronger neighbor. She was very reluctant to leave 
when Miss Beach at last brought round the car. 

“How I’d love to go and learn farming when I 
leave school I” she ventured to remark as they drove 
home. 

“It needs brains !” returned Aunt Harriet, rather 
snappily. “You mustn’t imagine it’s all tea in the 
garden and playing with fluffy chickens. To run 
such a holding intelligently requires a clever capable 
head. Your examination’s quite enough for you to 
think about at present. If you’re to have any 
chance at all of passing, it will take your whole en- 
ergies, I assure you !” 

Winona, duly snubbed, held her peace. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

A Friend in Need 

Under the coaching of Miss Goodson the Sixth 
Form had settled down to grim work. Twelve girls 
were to present themselves for examination for en- 
tering Dunningham University, and though the 
teacher naturally concentrated her greatest energies 
on this elect dozen, the rest by no means slipped 
through her intellectual net. There were stars 
among the candidates of whom she might feel mod- 
erately certain, and there were also laggers whose 
success was doubtful. In this latter category she 
classed Winona. Poor Winona still floundered 
rather hopelessly in some of her subjects. A poetic 
imagination may be a delightful inheritance and a 
source of infinite enjoyment to its owner, but it does 
not supply the place of a good memory. Examiners 
are prosaic beings who require solid facts, and even 
the style of a Macaulay or a Carlyle would not sat- 
isfy them unless accompanied by definite answers to 
their set questions. By a piece of unparalleled luck, 
Winona had secured and retained her County Schol- 
arship, but her powers of essay writing were not 
likely to serve her in such good stead again. She 
often groaned when she thought of the examinations. 
Miss Bishop, Aunt Harriet, and her mother would 
all be so disappointed if she failed, and alas! her 
failure seemed only too probable. 

236 


A Friend in Need 237 

“Miss Goodson doesn’t tell me plump out that 
I’ll be plucked, but I can see she thinks sol” con- 
fided Winona to Garnet one day. 

“Then show her she Is wrong I” 

“Not much chance of that, I’m afraid, but I’m 
doing my level best. I get up at six every morning, 
and slave before breakfast.” 

“So do I, but I get such frightful headaches,” 
sighed Garnet. “I’ve been nearly mad with them. 
My cousin took me to the doctor yesterday. He says 
it’s my eyes. I shan’t be at school to-morrow. I 
have to go to Dunningham to see a specialist.” 

“Poor old girl! You never told me about your 
headaches.” 

“You never asked me! I’ve seen so little of you 
lately.” 

Winona’s conscience smote her. She had rather 
neglected Garnet since they had entered the Sixth 
Form. During their year In V.A. they had been 
fast friends. As new girls together and scholarship 
holders, a close tie had existed between them, and 
they had shared in many small excitements and ad- 
ventures. When Winona was chosen Games Cap- 
tain, however, their interests seemed to separate. 
Garnet was not athletic, she cared little for hockey 
or cricket, and preferred to devote her surplus en- 
ergies to the Literary Society or the Debating Club., 
Almost Inevitably they had drifted apart. Winona, 
wrapped up In the supreme fascinations of hockey 
matches and gymnasium practice, had chummed with 
Marjorie Kemp, Bessie Kirk, and Joyce Newton, 
who shared her enthusiasm for games. She remem- 


238 The Luckiest Girl in School 

bered with a pang of self-reproach that she had 
not walked round the playground with Garnet once 
this term. Winona admired fidelity, but she cer- 
tainly could not pride herself upon having practiced 
that virtue of late. 

Garnet was absent from her desk next day, but 
when she returned to the school on Thursday, 
Winona sought an opportunity, and bore her off for 
a private talk. Garnet was looking very pale. 

“I’m dreadfully upset,” she confessed. “I told 
you I had to see a specialist about my eyes? Well, 
yesterday we went to Dunningham, to consult Sir 
Alfred Pollard. He says there’s very serious 
trouble, and that if I’m not careful, I may ruin my 
sight altogether. He absolutely forbids any home 
work in the evenings.” 

“Forbids home work!” gasped Winona. 

“Yes, utterly! Just think of it! With the exami- 
nations only six weeks off ! I begged and implored, 
but he said I might choose between my sight and 
my exam. I suppose I shall have to fail!” 

“Oh, Garnet!” 

“Yes,” continued her friend bitterly, “to fail at 
the very end, after all my work! And I have 
worked! When other girls have been getting all 
sorts of fun. I’ve sat In my bedroom with my books. 
Oh, it’s too cruel! . . . Don’t think me conceited, 
but r thought I might have a chance for the Seaton 
Scholarship. It was worth trying for ! If you knew 
how I long to go to College ! It would be so glori- 
ous to write B.A. after one’s name ! Besides, I must 
do something In life. All my sisters have chosen 


A Friend in Need 239 

careers, and I had quite decided to take up teaching 
as a profession. I talked it over with Miss Goodson 
one day. She was so nice about It, and strongly 
advised me to go to College if I could possibly get 
the opportunity. Well, I suppose that dream’s over 
now! Not much chance of a scholarship with one’s 
prep, knocked off!” 

“Oh, Garnet, I’m so sorry! Will the doctor let 
you take the exams, at all?” 

“Yes, I may attend school as usual, and go In for 
the exam., but I’m not to look at a book after 
4 p. m. or before 9 a. m., so it’s a very empty per- 
mission. How I shall rage all the evenings ! I wish 
I had a gramophone to howl out my work into my 
ears, as I mayn’t use my eyes !” 

“Would that help you?” asked Winona eagerly. 

“Of course it would! It isn’t my brain that’s 
wrong, only my eyes. I asked my cousin to read 
my prep, to me one evening, but It was beyond her, 
and we only got into a muddle. Oh dear, I could 
cry! To have worked to within six weeks of the 
exam., and then to have to slack like this! I’m the 
unluckiest girl In the world!” 

Winona comforted her poor friend as best she 
could. She had an idea at the back of her mind, 
but she did not venture to confide It to Garnet until 
she had first consulted Aunt Harriet about It. It 
was no less a proposal than that they should do their 
preparation together, and that by reading the work 
aloud she could act eyes for her chum. It would be 
difficult, no doubt, but not an utter impossibility, and 
it was absolutely the only way in which Garnet could 


240 The Luckiest Girl in School 

receive help. It would necessitate their spending 
many hours daily in each other’s company, and to 
arrange this seemed to be the difficulty. She ex- 
plained the situation to Miss Beach, with some diffi- 
dence and hesitation. She was terribly afraid of 
receiving a snubbing, and being told that her own 
work was more than sufficient for her, without tak- 
ing up her friend’s burdens. To her surprise, how- 
ever, Aunt Harriet proved sympathetic, and heartily 
acquiesced In the scheme. She Indeed made the very 
kind proposal that for the six weeks until the exam. 
Garnet should sleep with Winona at Abbey Close, 
so that they might have both the evening and early 
morning preparation together. 

Winona carried her friend to a quiet corner of 
the gymnasium to communicate her thrilling news. 

“Win! You don’t really mean It? Oh, you’re 
big! I didn’t think any one in the world would 
have done that for me. Do you realize what you’re 
undertaking? It’s the one thing that can save me! 
And only a girl who’s In my own Form, and going 
In for the exams, herself, could do It. Nobody else 
understands exactly what one wants. Win! I’m 
ready to worship you !” 

“Will your cousin let you come to stay with us?” 

“I’ve no fear of that. She’ll be as grateful to 
you as I am !” 

Without any further loss of time. Garnet was 
installed at Abbey Close, and the friends began their 
joint preparation. Garnet, by the doctor’s orders, 
sat with a black silk handkerchief tied over her eyes, 
so as to give them all the rest which was possible. 





“ ‘oh, garnet, i’m so sorry! will the doctor let you take 

EXAMS AT ALL?’ ” 


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A Friend in Need 241 

Her brain was very alert, however, and her excel- 
lent memory retained most of what Winona read 
to her. At first there were many difficulties to be 
overcome, for each had had her own way of study- 
ing, but after a while they grew used to their united 
method, and began to make headway with the work. 
They thoroughly enjoyed being together. To 
Winona it was almost like being back at the hostel 
to have a companion in her bedroom, and her many 
jokes and bits of fun kept up Garnet’s spirits. They 
set their alarm clock for 5.30, and began study 
promptly at six each morning, after eating the bread 
and butter and drinking the glasses of milk which, 
by Aunt Harriet’s orders, were always placed in 
readiness for them. These early hours, when the 
day was cool, and a fresh breeze blew in through 
the open window, seemed the most valuable of all; 
their brains felt clearer, and they were often able 
to grasp problems and difficult points which had 
eluded them the evening before. 

Except for the ordinary practices which formed 
part of the school curriculum, Winona was obliged 
for the present to appoint Bessie Kirk as her deputy- 
Captain. She had no time herself to train juniors, 
to act referee, or to stand watching tennis sets. 
It meant a great sacrifice to relinquish these most 
congenial duties, but she knew Miss Bishop and 
Miss Goodson approved, and she promised herself 
to return to them all the more heartily when the 
examination should be over. She would ask Bessie 
wistfully for reports of the progress of various stars 
who were in training, and managed to keep in touch 


242 The Luckiest Girl in School 

with the games, though she could not always par- 
ticipate in them. 

“Wait till June’s over, and I’m emancipated! 
Then won’t I have the time of my life!” she an- 
nounced. “Thank goodness the match with Bin- 
worth isn’t till July 2 istl” 

The weeks of strenuous work passed slowly by. 
The weather was warm and sultry, with frequent 
thunderstorms, not a favorable atmosphere for 
study. Garnet flagged palpably, and lost her roses. 
To Winona the time seemed interminable. The 
task she had undertaken of helping her friend was 
a formidable one. It needed all her courage to 
persevere. Sometimes she longed just for an eve- 
ning to throw it up, and go and play tennis instead, 
but every hour was important to Garnet, and must 
not be lost. Winona often had to set her teeth and 
force herself to resist the alluring sound of the 
tennis in the next-door garden, where she had a 
standing invitation to come and play, and it took 
all the will power of which she was capable to 
focus her attention on the examination subjects. 
She tried not to let Garnet see how much the effort 
cost her; the latter was sensitive, and painfully con- 
scious of being a burden. Miss Beach dosed both 
the girls with tonics, and insisted upon their taking 
a certain amount of exercise. 

“Work by all means, but don’t over-work,” was 
her recommendation. “There’s such a thing as 
bending a bow until it breaks. I don’t like to see 
such white cheeks 1” 

The examination was for entering Dunning- 


A Friend in Need 243 

ham University, and must be taken at that city. 
The Governors of the Seaton High School had 
offered a scholarship, tenable for three years, to 
whichever of their candidates, obtaining First Class 
honors, appeared highest on the list of passes. They 
had arranged with the examiners to place the names 
of the successful candidates In order of merit and 
on the receipt of the results they would award their 
exhibition. If no one obtained First Class honors, 
the offer would be withdrawn, and held over until 
another year. 

Several of the girls were well up in their work, 
and seemed likely to have a chance of winning. 
Linda Fletcher had the advantage of two years in 
the Sixth, Agatha James was undoubtedly clever, and 
Beatrice Howell, though not brilliant, possessed a 
steady capacity for grind. With three such formid- 
able rivals Garnet’s heart might very reasonably 
fail her. The doctor’s prohibition was a most seri- 
ous handicap for invaluable as her chum’s help 
proved. It was not so effective as being able to use 
her own eyes. Sometimes she lost courage alto- 
gether, and it needed Winona’s most dogged deter- 
mination to keep her mind fixed unwaveringly upon 
the end in view. 

“It’s like playing in a match,” Winona assured 
her. “If you think the other side’s going to win, 
you may as well throw up the sponge at once. Don’t 
give way an inch until you absolutely know you’re 
beaten. I’m just determined you’re to have that 
scholarship !” 

“If I could only think so !” sighed Garnet. “Oh, 


244 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Win! what should I do without you? When I’m 
with you my spirits go up, and I’ve courage enough 
for anything, and when I’m by myself I feel a 
wretched jelly-fish of a creature, just inclined to sit 
in a corner and blub I” 

“No blubbering, please! Worst thing possible 
for the eyes!” commanded Winona. 

“Well, I won’t! You’ve cheered me up tremen- 
dously. I’m glad you’ll be in the exam, room with 
me. I shall feel twice as brave if I know you’re 
there !” 

The days sped on, and the very last one came. 
Miss Bishop and Miss Goodson had given their 
final coachings and their most valuable help. 
Winona and Garnet devoted the evening to master- 
ing one or two doubtful points. 

“We’ve done our best, and it depends now 
whether we’ve luck in the questions,” said Winona. 
“I think we’d better put the books away. We shall 
only muddle ourselves if we try any more to-night. 
Aunt Harriet says we’re not to get up at five to- 
morrow. We shall have quite a hard enough day 
as it is.” 

“It wouldn’t be much use,” said Garnet, thrust- 
ing back the hair from her hot forehead. “I feel 
I’ve taken in the utmost my brains can hold. 
There’s no room for anything more. How close 
the air is!” 

“I believe we’re going to have another storm,” 
replied Winona, leaning out of the widely opened 
window, to pze at the lurid sky. “There’s a feel- 
ing of electricity about. Ah ! There it begins !” 


A Friend in Need 245 

A vivid flash behind the tower of the old Minster 
was followed by a long rumble of thunder. The 
atmosphere was painfully oppressive. Again a 
white streak ran like a corkscrew over the clouds, 
and a louder peal resounded. The storm was draw- 
ing nearer. 

“Come from the window, Winona. It’s not 
safe!” 

Garnet was terribly afraid of thunder. The elec- 
tricity in the air has a powerful effect upon some 
temperaments, and at the first sound of heaven’s 
artillery she was crouching beside her bed, with 
her head buried in the pillow. 

“Don’t be a silly ostrich!” retorted her chum. 
“It’s quite far away yet, and if it does come, the 
chances are a thousand to one against it hitting this 
particular house. Why, you weren’t half so scared 
of Zeppelins! For goodness’ sake don’t get hys- 
terical! Show some pluck!” 

Winona’s remarks might not be complimentary, 
but they were bracing. Garnet laughed nervously, 
and consented to sit upon a chair. In about half- 
an-hour the storm blew over, leaving a clear sky 
and stars. 

“Come and put your head out of the window, and 
feel how deliciously fresh and cool it is!” com- 
manded Winona. “Look at that bright planet! I 
think it must be Jupiter. I take it as a good omen 
for to-morrow. The storm will have cleared your 
brain, and your star’s in the ascendant. Here’s luck 
to the exam. !” 

The city of Dunningham was about thirty miles 


246 The Luckiest Girl in School 

away from Seaton. It was a big manufacturing city, 
with a highly flourishing modern university, which 
had lately come much to the fore, and had begun 
to make itself a reputation. The three days’ exam- 
ination was to be held In the University buildings, 
and all candidates were bound to present themselves 
there. Miss Bishop had decided that the contingent 
of twelve from the Seaton High School should travel 
to Dunningham each morning by the early express, 
under the charge of Miss Lever, who would take 
them out for lunch, and escort them safely back to 
Seaton again In the evening. The arrangement 
necessitated an early start, but nobody minded that. 

The little party met at the railway station In quite 
bright spirits. It was rather fun, all going to Dun- 
ningham together, and having a special compartment 
engaged for them on the train. It was a difficult 
matter for thirteen people to cram Into seats only 
Intended for the accommodation of ten, but they 
preferred over-crowding to separation, and cheer- 
fully took It In turns to sit on one another’s knees. 

“It’s more like a beanfeast than the exam. !” 
laughed Mary Payne, handing round a packet of 
chocolates. “I feel I absolutely don’t care!” 

“I feel like a criminal on the road to execution !” 
groaned Helena Maitland. “Usedn’t they to give 
the poor wretches anything they asked for? Oh, 
yes, thanks ! I’ll have a chocolate by all means, but 
it’s crowning the victim with a garland of roses !’’ 

“Rather mixed metaphors, my child ! If you don’t 
express yourself more clearly in your papers, I’m 
afraid you won’t satisfy the examiners 1” 


A Friend in Need 247 

“I wonder who corrects the papers?” asked Freda 
Long. 

“Oh! some snarling old dry-as-dust, probably, 
who’s anxious to get through the job as quickly as 
he can. It must be a withering experience to go 
through thousands of papers. Enough to pulverize 
your brains for the rest of your life !” 

“I don’t mind the examiners’ brains. It’s my 
own I’m anxious about. If they’ll last me out these 
three days, I’ll be content to exist at a very low 
mental level afterwards!” 

“Right you are! Ditto this child! I’m going 
to read nothing but the trashiest novels during the 
holidays!” announced Mary aggressively. 

“And I’m not going to read at all ! I shall just 
lounge and play tennis,” added Hilda. 

“Poor dears! I used to feel like that, but one 
gets over it!” smiled Miss Lever. “Don’t eat too 
many caramels, or you’ll be so thirsty in the exam, 
room. Malted milk tablets are the best thing; 
they’re sweet, but sustaining. Plain chocolate is 
the next best. I shall think of you all the whole 
morning.” 

“You’ll have a lovely time gallivanting round 
Dunningham and shop-gazing, while we’re rack- 
ing our brains!” said Garnet. “We’re all envi- 
ous!” 

“Remember, I’ve had my purgatory before !” re- 
turned Miss Lever, laughing. “You must allow me 
a good time in my old age!” 

Arrived at Dunningham station, they took the 
tramcar, and proceeded straight to the University. 


248 The Luckiest Girl in School 

It was a very fine modern building, erected round 
three sides of a large quadrangle, the fourth side 
being occupied by a museum. They were directed 
to the Women Students’ Department, and took off 
their hats and coats in the dressing-room. Miss 
Lever, who had herself graduated at Dunningham, 
knew the place well, and was able to give them 
exact directions. She escorted them across the quad- 
rangle to the big hall where the examination was 
to be held. 

“The place has a classic look,” said Garnet, gaz- 
ing at the Corinthian columns of the portico. “I’m 
afraid they won’t consider my Latin up to standard. 
May the fates send me an easy paper !” 

“You should have asked them before I” giggled 
Winona. “The papers are printed now, and not all 
the gods of Olympus could alter a letter. I accept 
my fortunes in the spirit of a Mahomedan. It’s 
Kismet!” 

The first set of questions was easier than the girls 
had dared to expect. They scribbled away eagerly. 
It was encouraging, at any rate, to make a good 
beginning. They compared notes at the end of the 
morning, and arrived at the conclusion that all had 
done fairly well. Miss Lever was waiting for them 
in the quadrangle when they came out, and an- 
nounced that she had engaged a special table for 
the party at a restaurant, and had ordered a par- 
ticularly nice little lunch, with coffee afterwards to 
clear their brains. Some of the girls were tired, and 
inclined to groan, others were exhilarated, but the 
enthusiasts cheered up the weaker spirits, and by the 


A Friend in Need 249 

time the coffee course was reached, everybody was 
feeling courageous. 

“Should I dare to suggest ices?” murmured 
Winona. 

“All right, if you like. There’s just time,” as- 
sented Miss Lever, consulting her watch. “I passed 
my Intermediate on ices during a spell of intensely 
hot weather. I can allow you exactly five minutes, 
so choose quickly — strawberry or vanilla?” 

The three days of the examination seemed to 
Winona like a dream. She grew quite accustomed 
to the big hall full of candidates, and to her par- 
ticular desk. Garnet sat at the other side of the 
aisle, and Winona would sometimes pause a moment 
to watch her. To judge from her friend’s absorbed 
appearance and fast moving pen, the papers ap- 
peared to suit her. To Winona’s immense aston- 
ishment she herself was doing quite moderately well. 
The six weeks’ coaching of Garnet had been of in- 
estimable benefit to her own work. She had not then 
thought of this aspect of the matter, but she was 
certainly now reaping the reward of her labor of 
love. For the first time the possibility of gaining 
a pass occurred to her. 

“If I do, it’ll be the limit!” she reflected. “Miss 
Bishop will have about the surprise of her life !” 

On the whole the girls quite enjoyed their three 
days at Dunningham. There were intervals between 
their various papers, which they spent partly in the 
University museum and partly in the City Art Gal- 
lery, where a fine collection of Old Masters was on 
loan. It was the first time Winona had seen paint- 


250 The Luckiest Girl in School 

ings by world-famous artists, though she had often 
pored over reproductions of their works in The 
Studio or The Connoisseur. She felt that the ex- 
perience added another window to her outlook on 
life. 

“I wish I’d the talent to be an artist!” she 
thought. “There are so many things I’d like to do ! 
Oh, dear! Painting and music (both beyond me 
utterly) and physical culture and poultry farming, 
and Red Cross nursing, and I probably shan’t do 
any of them, after all! I want to be of solid use to 
the world in a nice interesting way to myself, and 
I expect I’ll just have to do a lot of stupid things 
that I hate. Why wasn’t I born a Raphael?” 

“How do you think you’ve got on altogether?” 
Garnet asked Winona, as, thoroughly tired out, the 
two girls traveled homeward to Seaton at the end 
of the third day’s examination. 

“Um — tolerably. Better, perhaps, than I ex- 
pected, but that’s not saying much. And you?” 

“I never prophesy till I know!” 

But Garnet’s dark eyes shone as she leaned back 
in her comer. 


CHAPTER XIX 


The Swimming Contest 

Once the examinations were over, Winona’s 
spirits, which had been decidedly at II Penseroso, 
went up to L’Allegro. The strain of coaching Gar- 
net had been very great, but the relief was in cor- 
responding proportion. She felt as if a burden had 
rolled from her shoulders. There was just a month 
of the term left. The Sixth would of course be ex- 
pected to do its ordinary form work, but the amount 
of home study required would be reasonable, quite 
a different matter from the intolerable grind of 
preparation for a University examination. The ex- 
tra afternoon classes with Miss Goodson were no 
longer necessary, leaving a delightful period of 
leisure half-hours at school. Winona intended to 
employ these blissful intervals in cricket practice, 
at the tennis courts, in helping to arrange the mu- 
seum, and in carrying out several other pet schemes 
that she had been forced hitherto to set aside. Bes- 
sie Kirk had made a good deputy, but it was nice 
to take the reins into her own hands once more, 
and feel that she was head of the Games depart- 
ment. She coached her champions assiduously. At 
tennis Emily Cooper and Bertha March stood out 
like planets among the stars. They had already 
beaten Westwood High School and Hill Top Sec- 


252 The Luckiest Girl in School 

ondary School, and hoped to have a chance against 
Binworth College, of hitherto invincible reputation. 
The match would not take place for a fortnight, 
which gave extra time for practice. In cricket, 
Betty Carlisle had come to the front at bowling, 
while Maggie Allesley and Irene Swinburne were 
heroines of the bat. It is inevitable that some girls 
should overtop the rest, but Winona would not on 
that account allow the others to slack. She knew 
the importance of a high general average of play, 
and urged on several laggers. She thoroughly real- 
ized the importance of fielding, and made her eleven 
concentrate their minds upon it. 

“We lost Tamley on fielding,” she affirmed, “and 
if we’ve any intention of beating Binworth, we’ve 
just got to practice catching and throwing in.” 

Of the two matches in which the school had so 
far taken part, the first, with Baddeley High School, 
had been a draw, and in the second, with Tamley, 
they had been beaten. It was not an encouraging 
record, and Winona felt that for the credit of the 
school it was absolutely necessary to vanquish Bin- 
worth. Its team had a fairly good reputation, so 
it would be no easy task, but after the hockey suc- 
cesses of last winter she did not despair. Apart 
from school she had a very pleasant time. Nearly 
every evening after supper Aunt Harriet would sug- 
gest a short run in the car before sunset. She gen- 
erally allowed her niece to take the wheel as soon 
as they were clear of the town traffic, and Winona 
soon became quite expert at driving. She liked to 
feel the little car answering to her guidance; there 


The Swimming Contest 253 

was a thrill in rounding corners and steering past 
carts, and every time she went out she gained fresh 
confidence. She was not at all nervous, and kept her 
head admirably in several small emergencies, man- 
aging so well that Aunt Harriet finally allowed her 
to bring the car back down the High Street, which, 
as it was the most crowded portion of the town, 
was considered the motorist’s ordeal in Seaton. She 
acquitted herself with great credit, passed a tram- 
car successfully, and understood the signals of the 
policeman who waved his hand at the corner. Aunt 
Harriet had taken out a driver’s license for her, so 
having proved her skill in the High Street, she now 
felt quite a full-fledged lady chauffeur. 

Winona immensely enjoyed these evening runs 
when the sky was aflame with sunset, and the trees 
were quiet dark masses of color, and the long road 
stretched out before her, pink from the glow above, 
and the lacey hemlocks and meadowsweets made a 
soft blurred border below the hedgerows. With an 
open road In front of her she was tempted some- 
times to put on speed, and felt as if she were flying 
onwards into a dream country where all was vague 
and mysterious and shadowy and unknown. She was 
always loth to return, but Aunt Harriet was ex- 
tremely particular that they must be home before 
llghting-up time, and would point remorselessly to 
the small clock that hung facing the seat. Perhaps 
Winona’s greatest triumph was when, one evening, 
she managed without any assistance to run the car 
into its own shed In the garage, a delicate little piece 
of steering which required fine calculation, a quick 


254 The Luckiest Girl in School 

hand, and a rapid turn. She was learning some- 
thing of the mechanism, too, could refill the petrol 
tank, and was almost anxious for a tire to burst, so 
that she might have the opportunity of putting on 
the Stepney wheel, though this latter ambition was 
not shared by her aunt. 

“When all the men have gone to the war, I’ll be 
able to drive a taxi or a war van, and make myself 
useful to the Government! I believe I could clean 
the car perfectly well if Sam should be called up, 
and has to leave the garage. I’d just enjoy turning 
the hose on it. What would they give me a week 
to take Sam’s place here?” 

“They’d give you a snubbing if you asked them!” 
laughed Aunt Harriet. “Cleaning a car is uncom- 
monly hard work. You might manage our small 
one, but by the time you’d done the whole round 
of the garage, you’d be ready to declare it wasn’t 
a woman’s job.” 

“I’d chance it!” retorted Winona. 

She had her opportunity after all, for the garage 
attendant was taken ill, and remained off duty for 
several days. On the Saturday morning Winona 
set to work and cleaned, polished and oiled the car 
thoroughly. It was very dirty after a muddy day’s 
use, so she had her full experience. It was certainly 
far harder than she had anticipated, and she felt 
devoutly thankful that she was not bound to attack 
the cars in the other sheds, and perform similar 
services for each. 

“Sam earns his money,” she assured Aunt Har- 
riet, when she returned at lunch-time. “On the 


The Swimming Contest 255; 

whole, I’ve decided I won’t be a lady chauffeur. It’s 
bad enough to have to clean one’s bicycle, but if 
I had to go through this car performance every day, 
I don’t think there’d be very much left of me.” 

“Ah I I told you so !” returned Aunt Harriet 
triumphantly. 

Motoring was not the only fresh form of activity 
which Winona had taken up this summer. The 
school had organized swimming classes, and on cer- 
tain clean-water days detachments of girls were con- 
ducted to the public baths. Owing to her college 
entrance examinations, Winona had not been able to 
attend the full course, but she had learnt to swim 
last summer at the baths, and was as enthusiastic 
as anybody. Miss Medland, the teacher, was an 
expert from Dunningham; she was skillful herself, 
and clever at training her pupils. The girls soon 
gained confidence in the water, and began to be able 
to perform what they called “mermaid high jinks.” 

The Public Baths at Seaton were most remarkably 
good, so good indeed that many of the citizens had 
raised a protest against the Corporation for spend- 
ing so much money upon them. The High School 
girls, who had not to pay the rates, did not sym- 
pathize with the grumbles of ratepayers, and re- 
joiced exceedingly in the sumptuous accommodation. 
They specially appreciated the comfort of the dress- 
ing-rooms, and the convenience of the hot-air appa- 
ratus for drying their hair. The restaurant, where 
tea or bovril could be had, was also a luxury for 
those who were apt to turn shivery after coming 
from the water. 


256 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“I can understand why the Romans were so en- 
thusiastic about their public baths,” said Audrey 
Redfern. “Just think of having little trays of eat- 
ables floating about on the water, so that you could 
have a snack whenever you wanted, and slaves to 
bring you delicious scent afterwards, and garlands 
of flowers. I wish I’d lived some time B.C. instead 
of in the twentieth century!” 

“Be thankful you didn’t live in the twelfth, for 
then you mightn’t have had a bath at all I” returned 
Winona; “certainly not a public one, and probably 
not the private one either. An occasional canful of 
water would have been thought quite sufficient for 
you, with perhaps a dip in a stream if you could get 
it. The people who bathed were mostly pilgrims 
at Holy Wells, and they all used the same water, 
no matter what their diseases were.” 

“How disgusting! Well, on the whole I’m tol- 
erably satisfied to belong to the poor old twentieth 
century. It might be better, but it might be worse.” 

“How kind of you! I’m sure posterity will be 
grateful for your approval.” 

“D’you want me to push you into the water, 
Winona Woodward? I will, in half a second!” 

At the end of the course it was arranged that a 
swimming contest should take place among the girls, 
and that various prizes should be offered for cham- 
pionships. It was the first event of the kind in the 
annals of the school, so naturally it aroused much 
enthusiasm. About thirty candidates were selected 
by Miss Medland as eligible for competitions, the 
rest of her pupils having to content themselves with 


The Swimming Contest 257 

looking on. A special afternoon was given up to the 
display, and invitations were sent out to parents 
to come and help to swell the audience. 

“Are you in for the mermaldens’ fete?” Winona 
asked Marjorie Kemp. 

“Mermaidens’ fete, Indeed! How romantic we 
are all of a sudden! The frog fight, I should call 
it.” 

“There speaks the voice of envy! You’re evi- 
dently out of it.” 

“Don’t want to be in it, thanks ! It’ll be wretched 
work shivering round the edge of the bath for a 
solid hour!” 

“Sour grapes, my child!” teased Winona. 

“Go on, my good girl — if you want to make me 
raggy, you just shan’t succeed, that’s all!” 

“Now I should like to have been chosen!” 
mourned Evelyn Richards. “I don’t mind confess- 
ing that I’ve had a disappointment. I thought I 
could swim quite as well as Freda, and It’s grizzly 
hard luck that she was picked out and I wasn’t.. 
Rank favoritism, I call It!” 

“Poor old Eve ! Look here. I’ll tell you a secret.; 
You head the reserve list. I know because I saw it. 
If anybody has a cold on the day of the event, you’ll 
take her place.” 

“You mascot! Shall I? Oh! I do hope some- 
body’ll catch cold — not badly, but just enough to 
make It unsafe to go Into the water. You can’t 
think how I want to try my luck. I don’t suppose 
I’ve a chance of a prize, but if I did get one, why 
I’d cock-a-doodle-do the school down!” 


258 The Luckiest Girl in School 

“I’m quite sure you would! Trust you to blow 
your own trumpet!” 

“Winona Woodward, if you’d been properly and 
thoroughly spanked in your babyhood, you’d be a 
much more civil person now. I decline your com- 
pany. Ta-ta!” 

“Poor old Eve! Take it sporting!” said Winona 
soothingly. 

On the afternoon of the great event, the ladies’ 
large bath was specially reserved for the school. A 
goodly crowd of spectators filled almost to over- 
flowing the galleries that ran round the hall; inter- 
ested fathers and mothers, sympathetic aunts, and 
a sprinkling of cousins and friends made up the 
visitors’ list, and the rest of the space was crammed 
with school girls. Each likely champion had her 
own set of supporters, who murmured her name as 
a kind of war cry, and were only restrained from 
shouting it at the pitch of thdr lungs by the sight 
of Miss Bishop, who stood below, talking to Miss 
Medland and the judge. The enthusiasm went per- 
haps more by favor than by actual prowess, and 
could hardly be taken as an augury of success, for 
Barbara Jones, who was popular, received much 
more encouragement than Olga Dickinson, who had 
distanced her every time at the practices. Juniors 
will be juniors, however, and the fourth and third 
forms stamped solidly for Barbara, ignoring the 
superior claims of her rival. 

The bath, with its blue and white tiles, looked 
tempting. All the school envied the candidates as 
they came marching in in their costumes. 


The Swimming Contest 259 

“Evelyn’s got a place after all !” said Garnet, who 
was among the spectators, to Gladys Cooper, who 
sat next to her. “Some one else must be off, then. 
Who is it? Freda Long? Poor old Freda! Got 
toothache? It’s hard luck on her! There’s Wi- 
nona. I don’t believe she’ll win, but I’ll cheer her! 
Rather!” 

Winona also did not think it likely that she would 
win. She had only had time for half the lessons, 
which put her at a serious disadvantage with girls 
who had taken the full course. It was unsporting, 
however, to go in confident of defeat, so she meant 
to do her best. 

The first event was the Upper School Champion- 
ship for the fastest swimmer. The candidates stood 
ready at the edge of the bath, then at the given 
signal they flung themselves into the water, and 
started. At first they were fairly even, but after a 
dozen yards or so several shot ahead. The irre- 
pressible juniors lost all control in their excitement, 
and cheered on each as she appeared to be gaining. 

“Audrey Redfern!” 

“No, no! Jess Gardner!” 

“Winona Woodward!” 

“Elsie Parton’s passed her!” 

“No, no! Winona’s making up!” 

“She’ll never do it, though !” 

“It’s a draw!” 

As a matter of fact Winona and Elsie Parton 
touched the winning tape at the very identical mo- 
ment. It was a great surprise for both of them, 
Winona had expected Jess or Audrey to be first. 


26o The Luckiest Girl in School 

and never thought of Elsie as a possible champion. 
Elsie was in V.B. and had not been very long at the 
school. No one had taken much notice of her up 
to now, and the girls were rather staggered at her 
success. They did not even clap her as she climbed 
up from the bath. The judge wrote down the result, 
and called the next event. This was the Lower 
School Championship, and the juniors were soon 
screaming for Barbara Jones and Daisy James. 
The latter had it by a length, and walked away 
smiling, to be wrapped up in a towel by Miss Lever, 
for she was a chilly little creature, and apt to be 
taken with fits of shivers if she stood long out of the 
water. 

Diving followed, both from the edge of the bath 
and from the diving board. In the Senior division 
Audrey and Jess secured the highest scores, neither 
Winona nor Elsie coming near them. Winona was 
not really very fond of diving, while Elsie staked her 
all upon extreme speed. The Juniors did almost 
better than their elders, Olga Dickinson’s achieve- 
ment quite carrying the enthusiasm of the hall. 

The next competition was for style. The candi- 
dates swam first on their sides, then on their backs, 
and finally on their backs moving their legs only, 
their arms being placed on their hips. The judge 
put down marks for each according to what she con- 
sidered their deserts; until the list should be made 
up, nobody knew who, in her expert opinion, had 
done the best. 

It was now the turn of the Midnight Race, a most 
important event, to which the spectators were look- 


The Swimming Contest 261 

ing forward keenly. Only the best swimmers were 
allowed to take part, the other candidates had to 
content themselves with watching. The selected ten 
retired to the dressing-room, and in a few moments 
emerged, each clad in a long white nightdress, and 
holding a candlestick with a lighted candle in her 
hand. A roar of applause rose from the gallery 
as the white-robed figures formed into line. Every 
girl placed her candlestick on the edge of the bath, 
and getting into the water, held on to the rail at 
attention. When the judge gave the signal, each 
seized her candlestick and commenced to swim on 
her back to the other side of the bath, holding up 
the candle in her left hand. It was a feat that 
required steadiness and skill. Evelyn Richards tried 
to hurry too fast, and the draft caused by her over- 
quick passage blew out her flame. Mollie Hill 
caught her foot in her nightdress, and dropped her 
candle altogether. Jess Gardner pursued the origi- 
nal method of holding her candlestick in her teeth, 
and using both arms to swim. There was keen ex- 
citement as the candidates cautiously worked their 
way across. Each was required to place her candle 
for a second on the edge of the bath, and then to 
swim back to the original starting point. Only five 
competitors were in the running for the return jour- 
ney — Winona, Audrey Redfern, Elsie Parton, Dora 
Lloyd (a Fourth Form girl), and little Olga Dick- 
inson. The temptation to swim too fast was over- 
whelming, and Audrey fell a victim to it, her flame 
going out just in the middle of the bath. Olga Dick- 
inson actually reached the starting point the first, but 


262 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Winona and Elsie Parton were only a second behind 
her, placing their candlesticks down at the very same 
moment. 

“I wonder how the score’s going?” said Winona, 
as the Seniors stood watching the Junior Handicap 
Race. 

“I’ve no idea,” returned Audrey. “You see we 
don’t know what marks Miss Gatehead has given, 
for style, and several other things. She doesn’t 
judge exactly like Miss Medland does. It’s a pity 
Freda Long’s out of it.” 

“What happened to Freda?” 

“Got toothache. Can’t you see her sitting up 
there in the gallery, holding her cheek? She’s look- 
ing at you I” 

“Poor old Freda! Beastly hard luck!” mur- 
mured Winona, waving a sympathetic greeting to 
her friend. 

The Midnight Race had been intensely interest- 
ing, but the Obstacle Race proved an even greater 
excitement. Two thin planks of wood were placed 
across the bath, floating upon the water. The com- 
petitors started from the deep end, dived under the 
first plank, and then scrambled over the second. 
At the shallow end were a number of large round 
wash-tubs; each candidate had to seize upon one 
of these and seat herself in it, a most difficult feat 
of fine balancing, for unless she hit upon the exact 
center of gravity, the tub promptly overturned, and 
flung her into the water. It was a most mirth- 
provoking competition, candidates and spectators 
bursting into shouts of laughter as one after another 


The Swimming Contest 263 

the girls gingerly climbed into their tubs, and toppled 
over into the bath. Those who managed at last to 
preserve their equilibrium were given paddles, and 
had to navigate themselves to the nearest plank, 
where they invariably fell out, and were rescued and 
towed back by attendant nymphs told off for the 
purpose. Nobody succeeded in paddling to the 
plank and back again, and the competition resolved 
itself into a series of splashes, squeals and bursts 
of mirth. Even stately Miss Bishop was laughing 
heartily, and the girls in the gallery were in a state 
bordering on hysteria. 

At last Miss Gatehead called order, and the drip- 
ping candidates retired from their water carnival to 
await the judging. The scores were rapidly added 
up, and the result was announced. 

“Winona Woodward and Elsie Parton equal. 
They will therefore swim the length of the bath to 
decide the championship.” 

Planks and tubs were hastily cleared away from 
the field of action, and the rival candidates started 
on their final contest. The sympathies of the gal- 
lery went strongly with Winona; the girls wanted 
their Games Captain to win, and they cheered her 
vigorously. But Winona was tired, Elsie Parton 
was lithe and active, and had made fast swimming 
her specialty. Winona did her sporting best, but 
by the middle of the bath Elsie had distanced her, 
and reached the winning post a whole length ahead. 

There was dead silence from the girls in the gal- 
lery. Their Captain had failed, and they did not 
mean to applaud her opponent. Winona, looking 


264 The Luckiest Girl in School 

upwards, saw the popular feeling in their faces. All 
her generous spirit rose in revolt. She was standing 
close to Miss Bishop, Miss Gatehead and Miss Med- 
land, and therefore it was certainly a breach of 
school etiquette for her to do what she did, but act- 
ing on the impulse of the moment she shouted: 
“Cheer, you slackers! Three cheers for Elsie Par- 
ton!” and waving her hand as a signal, led off the 
“Hip-hip-hip hurrah!” A very volume of sound 
followed, and the roof rang as Miss Bishop pre- 
sented the winner with the cup for the Champion- 
ship. 

“Thanks awfully, Winona!” said Elsie, as the 
girls walked away to the dressing-rooms. “I’m 
afraid I’ve disappointed the school — ^but I did want 
to win!” 

“Of course you did — and why shouldn’t you? I 
hope I can take a beating in a sporting way! I think 
I made them ashamed of themselves. Fair play and 
no favoritism is the tradition of this school, and I 
mean to have no nasty cliquey feeling in it so long 
as I’m Games Captain, or my name’s not Winona 
Woodward! That’s the law of the Medes and 
Persians I” 


The Red Cross Hospital 277 

want anything! You’ve been so good to me! I 
owe you a thousand times more than I can ever 
pay back. I’ve always wanted to make you under- 
stand this, but somehow I couldn’t. Thank you, 
thank you, thank you for all you’ve done for me! 
I shall be better all my life for having lived with 
you and known you. I’m a different person since I 
came to Seaton, and I owe it entirely to you !” 

The barrier was down at last. For once Winona 
spoke straight from her heart. Miss Beach took 
off her pince-nez, wiped them, and put them in their 
case. Her hand was trembling. 

“I wish I had known this before, child!” she said, 
with a break in her voice. “Here for nearly two 
years I have been thinking hard things of you, and 
imagining that you were plotting and scheming to 
get my money. You hurt me beyond expression 
when you asked if I had made my will. As a matter 
of fact the document is safe at my lawyer’s. The 
paper which Percy destroyed was only a rough draft. 
I had forgotten its existence.” 

“But you do believe me?” urged Winona. “You 
know I had none of those horrible plans? Oh, dear 
Aunt Harriet, money is nothing, nothing! It is you 
yourself I love, if you’ll only let me!” 

And in the dusk of the garden, Winona, for the 
first time in her life, flung her warm young arms 
round her aunt and hugged her heartily. 


CHAPTER XXI 

The End of the Term 

“Look here, my hearties!” said Winona to the 
cricket team. “Do you realize that Seaton versus 
Binworth is on Wednesday week? If you don’t, 
it’s time you did, and you’d better buck up! My 
opinion of you at this present moment is that you’re 
a set of loafers! What are you doing lounging 
about here, when you ought to be practicing for all 
you’re worth?” 

The little group sitting on the grass under the, 
lilac bushes smiled indulgently. 

“Go ahead! Lay it on thick!” twittered Betty 
Carlisle. “We knew when you hove into sight that 
we might expect some jaw-wag!” 

“It’s all very fine to sermonize,” yawned Maggie 
Allesley, “but you’d oblige me very much by going 
indoors and inspecting the thermometer in the 
hall.” 

“One can’t tear about in this heat !” added Irene 
Swinburne. 

“What a set of dainty Sybarites you are! No 
one would ever win matches if they waited for the 
right kind of day to practice. It’s always too hot or; 
too cold or too wet, or too something!” 

“Well, to-day it’s decidedly too something 1 
Don’t roast us!” 


2;8 


The End of the Term 279 

“But I shall roast you ! D’you mean to let Bin- 
worth have a complete walk-over? I’ll tell you what 
^ — if you can’t or won’t play during the heat, will 
you all come back to school for an hour every eve- 
ning, and practice then? I’d square It up with Miss 
Bishop. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” 

“There’s sense In your remarks now,” admitted 
Irene, sitting up. “I’m game, If others are I” 

“And so’s this child!” agreed Betty Carllse. “I 
can put the screw on Cassie and Nell, and bring 
them along any evening.” 

“Then mind you do 1 I’m going to take an oath 
of idle whole team to meet here at seven each night. 
I shall write it down on a piece of paper, and make 
you all put your names to it, like signing the pledge.” 

“Right you are, O She-who-must-be-obeyed !” 

“Your humble servants. Ma’am!” 

Their Captain’s suggestion of an evening cricket 
practice was welcomed by the team, and approved 
by Miss Bishop. It was delightfully cool at seven 
o’clock; the girls, instead of being languid and half- 
hearted, were energetic and enthusiastic, and their 
play became a different matter altogether. Winona, 
W'ho had been decidedly down about the prospects of 
the match, began to feel more confidence. Betty’s 
bowling was improving daily, and Irene, who had 
been given to blind swiping, was gaining discretion. 
If they would continue to make progress at the same 
rate, Seaton would have a chance. 

“It would be too bad if we lost the last match 
of the season !” fluttered Winona. “While I’m your 
captain I want to break the record.” 


28o The Luckiest Girl in School 

“All right, old girl ! It shall be a kind of Charge 
of the Light Brigade. ‘Theirs but to do or diel’ 
It will probably be a broiling hot day, but we’ll play 
till we drop!” Betty assured her. 

“Only have the Ambulance Corps ready with fans 
and stretches to revive us and bear us from the 
field!” added Irene, giggling. 

“I’ll see there’s lemonade for you !” 

Though to Winona, as Games Captain, “Seaton v». 
Binworth” seemed the one event worth living for, 
there were plenty of other interests going on in the 
school. Linda Fletcher, the head girl, was arrang- 
ing a program for the Parents’ Afternoon, the effi- 
cient performance of which was, in her eyes, of 
infinitely greater public importance than the cricket 
match. She also required numerous rehearsals, and 
the conflicting claims on the girls’ time became so 
confusing that after one or two struggles between 
rival “whips,” who contended hotly for possession, 
the chiefs were obliged to strike a bargain, Winona 
releasing two members of the team in order that 
they might act, and filling up their places from her 
reserve, while Linda undertook to leave the rest of 
the eleven out of her calculations. After this there 
was peace, and Violet Agnew and Averil Walmer, 
who had been secretly burning to distinguish them- 
selves in the dramatic line in preference to athletics, 
could meet Winona with clear consciences. 

Among other items of the program, Linda had 
fixed upon a French Pastoral Play, which was to be 
acted in the garden among the trees and lilac bushes. 
The girls were really supposed to get up the whole 


28 i 


The End of the Term 

of the little entertainment by themselves, but Made- 
moiselle was kind in this instance, and helped to 
coach them. The scene was to be a Fete Champetre, 
and the costumes were to be copied from some of 
Watteau’s pictures. There were tremendous consul- 
tations over them. A dressmaking Bee was held 
every afternoon from four to five o’clock in the small 
lecture-room. Miss Bishop generously lending her 
sewing machine for the purpose. Here a band of 
willing workers sat and stitched and chattered and 
laughed and ate chocolates, while pretty garments 
grew rapidly under their fingers. The dresses were 
only made of cheap materials, and were hastily put 
together, but they had a very good effect, for the 
colors were gay, and the style, with its panniers and 
lace frills was charming. The girls would hardly 
have managed the cutting out quite unaided, had not 
Miss Lever offered her assistance. “Dollikins” had 
large experience in the preparation of school theatri- 
cals, and possessed many invaluable paper patterns, 
so she was given a royal welcome, and installed at 
the table with the biggest and sharpest pair of scis- 
sors at her disposal. 

On the afternoon fixed for the entertainment quite 
a goodly audience assembled to watch and applaud. 
Mothers were in the majority, with a fair number 
of aunts and elder sisters, and just a sprinkling of 
fathers. Forms had been carried into the garden 
and arranged as an amateur theater, a flat piece of 
lawn with a background of bushes serving as stage. 
The program was to be representative of the whole 
school, so the first part was devoted to the perform- 


282 The Luckiest Girl in School 

ances of the Juniors. Twelve small damsels selected 
from Forms I. and II. gave a classic dance. They 
were dressed in Greek costume with sandals, and 
wore chaplets of roses round their hair. They had 
been carefully trained by Miss Barbour, the drill 
mistress, and went through their parts with a joy- 
ousness reminiscent of the Golden Age. The Mor- 
ris Dance which followed, rendered by members of 
Forms III. and IV., though hardly so graceful, was 
sprightly and in good time, the fantastic dresses with 
their bells and ribbons suiting most of their wearers. 
It was felt that the Juniors had distinguished them- 
selves, and “Dollikins,” who with Miss Barbour had 
worked hard on their behalf, felt almost justified in 
bragging of their achievements. 

Meantime the Seniors had been making ready, 
and presently from behind the bushes tripped forth 
a charming group of Louis XV. courtiers, pattering 
the prettiest of French remarks. Dorrie Pollack as 
Monsieur le Due de Tourville was a model of gal- 
lantry in a feathered hat and stiff ringlets (the re- 
sult of an agonizing night passed in tight knobby 
curl papers!), while Linda, as Madame la Comtesse, 
quite outdid herself in the depth of her curtseys, and 
the distinguished grace with which she extended her 
hand for her cavalier to kiss. Nora Wilson tripped 
over her sword in her excitement, and Violet Agnew 
forgot her part, and had to be prompted by Made- 
moiselle, who stood with the book behind a bush; 
but these were only minor accidents, and on the 
whole the scene passed off with flying colors, and 
greatly impressed the parents and aunts with the 


,The End of the Term 283 

high stage of proficiency in the French language at- 
tained by the pupils of Seaton High School. 

Linda was so elated by the success of the after- 
noon that she sat up long after she ought to have 
been in bed that night, writing an account of the 
proceedings for the School Magazine. The manu- 
script, couched in antique language, was headed: 

“Ye Seaton Chronicle. 

“Then whereas ye damsels at ye schule had laboured well 
and diligently during many days at ye tasks set them by their 
reverend elders, it seemed good to those that did govern to 
appoint unto them a day to make merry and rejoice. There- 
fore did they choose out certain among them, and arraying 
them in goodly fashion, did charge them to dance to instru- 
ments of music before ye face of ye whole assembly of ye 
damsels, and likewise of some of their kindred, ye which 
were gathered together. Then did ye maids with no small 
skill tread ye dance, clad in fair garments with gauds and 
ornaments of silver upon them, at ye sight of which their 
kindred did raise cries of joy, and did further make great 
ado with clapping of ye hands. And when ye little maidens 
had duly presented their dances before ye company, then did 
ye elder damosels give a goodly masque, being decked forth 
in brave trappings, and speaking cunningly in ye tongue of 
ye fair lande of France, wherein all who heard them might 
well understand. And ye kindred and alle they that were 
gathered together for to look upon them did in kindness and 
with glad hearts commend them, and did of their charity 
vouchsafe to say that ye like had not aforetime been wit- 
nessed at ye schule, whereat ye maidens rejoiced greatly, as 
evenso it seemed unto them a reward for their diligent 
labour.” 

“We shall leave an account of our doings behind 
us,” said Linda to some of her friends In the Sixth, 
“for the copies of the School Magazine are to be 


284 The Luckiest Girl in School 

bound, and kept in the library for ever and a day. 
Future generations of girls will at least see our 
names and our Form photo, if they don’t know any- 
thing else about us.” 

Winona was living for one event, the match with 
Binworth. This was not to take place on the play- 
ing grounds of either school, but on a very superior 
cricket ground hired for the occasion from a local 
club. Winona, as Secretary for Seaton, had made 
fullest arrangements, including the presence in the 
pavilion of a cheery little woman from a neighbor- 
ing restaurant, who undertook the purveying of 
lemonade, ginger pop, cakes, and any fruit which 
might be obtainable for the occasion. 

Tickets of admission to the ground were issued 
and distributed throughout the school, public opin- 
ion deeming attendance almost compulsory. The 
team were inspected and criticized beforehand al- 
most as the Roman gladiators used to be reviewed 
by their patrons. Winona was on the whole proud 
of her eleven. Though not up to the lofty standard 
at which she had aimed, she felt that they realized 
a very respectable degree of merit. 

The ground lay a few miles out of the city, and 
was reached as a rule by tramcar, but as the ordinary 
service would be utterly unable to cope with the 
large numbers who proposed going, special omni- 
buses and brakes had been put on for the occasion ta 
accommodate the school, which turned out almost 
in full force to witness the show. Binworth also 
contributed Its quota of spectators, so the stands 
of the cricket ground were rapidly filled. 


The End of the Term 285 

Winona had a short preliminary talk with Dora 
Evans, who commanded the rival team, and as soon 
as the clock in the pavilion pointed to 2.30 the 
Captains stood out to toss. 

“Heads!” cried Winona. “It’s tails! Your 
choice !” 

“We’ll bat, then,” decreed Dora. 

Winona placed her field at once, and Dora, after 
a whispered word or two to her team, selected her 
first bats. One was a business-like looking girl who 
hummed a tune as she came, with ostentatious care- 
lessness; the other, stout and dark, blinked her eyes 
nervously. It was manifestly impossible to judge 
their capacities beforehand. Betty Carlisle was to 
take the first over. She had a high overhand action, 
and sent the ball down the pitch at a good pace. 
Lottie Moir, the dark-haired damsel who faced the 
bowling, was cautious. She played the first ball 
respectfully back to the bowler. The next, being 
of good length, she played quietly to long-off for 
one. She was evidently not out to take risks, and 
the rest of the over she did not attempt to score. 
Her partner, Meg Perkins, was a fairly brilliant, 
but more reckless player. The first ball she received 
came down at a good pace, but well on the off-side 
of the wicket. A well-timed cut sent it flying to 
the short boundary for two. Perhaps the success 
turned her head a little. The next ball pitched well 
to the leg-side; she made a mighty stroke at it, not 
allowing for the break, and missed it altogether. 
Next moment she was walking ruefully back to the 
pavilion. 


286 The Luckiest Girl in School 

Phyllis Knight, the next bat, was evidently re- 
garded by the Binworth team as a champion. She 
was tall, and decidedly athletic looking. Winona 
nodded to Irene Swinburne, celebrated for her 
twisters, and Irene went on to bowl. Phyllis had 
a long reach, which she employed successfully in 
driving the first ball she received right along the 
ground into “the country” for three. Seaton began 
to look rather glum. The next ball she stone- 
walled. Irene was growing desperate. Phyllis was 
waiting with her bat slightly raised. “Now if only 
I can drop the ball just under that bat, out she 
goes!” said Irene to herself, and sent the swiftest 
she knew how. Phyllis made a slash at it, evidently 
thinking it a half volley, but alas! her bails flew, 
and the Seaton contingent were roaring “Well 
bowled !” 

None of the rest of the Binworth team ap- 
proached to Phyllis’ standard, though they played 
with caution, and their score mounted up steadily. 
At the end of their innings sixty was up on the 
board. 

The Binworth Captain now arranged her field, 
and Winona sent in Bessie Kirk and Irene Swin- 
burne to face the bowling of Meg Perkins at one 
end, and Phyllis Knight at the other. At first things 
did not go over well for Seaton. Bessie Kirk fell 
a victim to Meg’s crafty slows. She played too 
soon at a short-pitched ball, and spooned a catch to 
mid-on. Irene at first scored merrily, but growing 
foolhardy was clean bowled by Phyllis Knight, to 


The End of the Term 287 

her huge discomfiture. Betty Carlisle and Maggie 
Allesley met with better luck, and the score began 
to creep up. The Seaton girls breathed more freely. 
Audrey Redfern and Lizzie Morris came up next. 
Lizzie broke her duck in the first over, and gaining 
confidence began to get her eye in, and with Audrey 
stone-walling with dogged persistence at the other 
end, and now and then making a single, the score 
reached fifty-three. There were only ten minutes 
left. Winona began to grow desperate. She came 
forth herself now, with a look of determination on 
her face. Dora Evans at once rolled the ball to 
Lottie Moir. Winona took her block composedly. 
Lottie might with advantage have been put on be- 
fore. Her style, though by no means swift, was 
most awkward to play. Winona in the first over 
did not attempt to score. She wished to take the 
measure of her opponent. In the next over her 
partner made a single, which brought Winona to the 
opposite wicket. The first ball came well on the 
off-side, and she sent it flying to the boundary for 
four. Fifty-eight was now up on the board, and 
there were only five minutes left I Perhaps Lottie 
Moir was tired, or waxed a little careless. The 
next ball she sent down was an easy full pitch. 
Winona waited till just the right moment, and then, 
with a fine swing of her bat, sent the ball clean over 
the boundary for six. The match was won, and 
Seaton, in the ecstasy of victory, was cheering Itself 
hoarse. 

“I never thought we’d do It I” murmured Winona 


288 The Luckiest Girl in School 

to Betty, as they drank ginger pop together in the 
pavilion. 

“I reckoned our Captain wouldn’t fail us !” 
chuckled Betty delightedly. “linda must compose 
an epic on it for the School Magazine. It beats 
Marathon, in my opinion!” 

“Well, I’m glad my last match at the old ‘Hi^* 
has been a success, anyway I” 

“Seaton versus Binworth” had taken place on 
Wednesday, and the school had scarcely finished 
exulting over its triumph before another matter 
claimed its attention. 

On Thursday morning the results of the exami- 
nation arrivecL Miss Bishop summoned the whole 
school into the lecture hall to hear the news. She 
was looking flushed and excitecL She waited a few 
moments as if to give extra efiect to her words, then 
announced ; 

“I have just received the results of the Entrance 
Examinations from Dunningham University. Out 
of twelve candidates who were entered from this 
school, ten have satisfied the examiners. Their 
names stand as follows in order of merit: 

First Class. 

Garnet Emerson. 

Second Class. 

Linda Fletcher, 

Agatha James. 

Helena NlaidancL 
Freda Long. 


289 


The End of the Term 

Third Class. 

Mary Payne. 

Hilda Langley. 

Winona Woodward. 

Dorrie Pollack. 

Estelle Harrison. 

Winona heaved an immense sigh of mingled 
amazement and relief. She had passed I Actually 
passed! She — ^Winona Woodward, whose form 
record had never soared above the most modest 
average. It was an unprecedented and altogether 
delightful finale to her school career. For the mo- 
ment she could hardly believe that it was true. But 
Miss Bishop had not finished her speech; she held 
up her hand to stop the burst of clapping, and 
continued : 

“As you are aware, the Governors of the School 
offered a three years’ scholarship, tenable at Dun- 
ningham University, to whichever of the candidates 
should head the list, being not lower than second 
class. Garnet Emerson, who has secured a First 
Class, is therefore, at the desire of the Governors, 
awarded the scholarship. Now if you like to clap 
for her, you may do so I” 

That Garnet, her dear Garnet, should have won 
the coveted scholarship, put the coping-stone on 
Winona’s glee. She squeezed her friend’s hand 
afterwards in an ecstasy of congratulation. Garnet 
said little, so little that her enthusiastic chum was 
almost disappointed. Winona, judging by her own 
feelings, expected her to be at delirium point. Bea- 


290 The Luckiest Girl in School 

trice Howell and Olave Parry, the two candidates 
who had failed, were receiving condolences with 
chastened resignation, the rest were In various stages 
of jubilee. 

That evening, about six o’clock, a small packet 
was left at Abbey Close, directed to Miss Winona 
Woodward. She opened it eagerly. It held a small 
jewelers’ box containing a beautiful little ring, and 
was accompanied by a letter from Garnet. 

“Dear Win” (so the letter ran), — “You must 
have thought me slack this morning when you were 
congratulating me, but the fact was I was utterly 
overwhelmed. I’d hoped and hoped to win the 
scholarship, and then put the idea away, and when 
I knew my good fortune I just felt stunned. It’s 
all owing to you, for if you hadn’t helped me I could 
never, never even have passed. I don’t know how 
to thank you. Words are quite Inadequate. But 
will you believe that I shall never forget your kind- 
ness all the rest of my life, and will you accept this 
little ring and wear It for my sake? It Is a garnet, 
and belonged to my grandmother, after whom I was 
named. I value it greatly, but I would far rather 
know you have it than keep it myself. 

“Always your most grateful friend, 

“Garnet Emerson.” 

There was a further surprise for Winona that 
evening. When supper was over, and she and Miss 
Beach were taking their usual twilight stroll round 
the garden, Aunt Harriet, who had been silent for 
a few minutes, suddenly spoke. 


The End of the Term 291: 

“I wish to say something to you, Winona. I’m 
very gratified indeed to hear that you have passed 
your college examinations. It has given me a better 
opinion of your capacity and perseverance than I 
possessed before. This result, combined with your 
conduct in coaching your friend through all these 
w^eeks, has decided me in a project that I was de- 
bating in my mind. I am going to send you either 
to a Physical Training College to qualify as a Games 
Mistress, or to a Horticultural College to prepare 
for a National Rural Economy diploma. Which- 
ever career you decide to choose, I am resolved that 
you shall have the best training available.” 

“Oh, Aunt Harriet! Thank you! Thank you! 
I don’t deserve it !” faltered Winona. 

The end of the term had come at length. The 
next day was Winona’s very last at Seaton High 
School. She was loth to leave, for the two years 
she had passed there had been the happiest and the 
fullest in her life. But though the past had pleasant 
memories, the future also held out fair hopes to her. 
As she entered Miss Bishop’s study to say good-by, 
the headmistress looked up kindly. 

“I shall miss you, Winona. I have just been 
turning over your school record. It’s not perhaps 
brilliant, but it has been persevering, and I am sure 
you’ve done your best. I am particularly pleased 
that you have passed your examination. As Games 
Captain you have been a decided asset to the school. 
I think I may safely say that you have justified the 
decision of the Governors in allowing you to hold 
the County Scholarship. Your aunt tells me that 


292 iThe Luckiest Girl in School 

you are to go in either for Physical Training or 
Horticulture. Don’t decide in a hurry. Get to 
know as much as you can about both, and think the 
matter over. Remember if ever you want a friend 
to come to me. Good-by!” 

Outside in the playground the Juniors were hang- 
ing about rather shyly and awkwardly. As Winona 
came from the dressing-room, Daisy James, much 
nudged by the others, advanced and thrust a little 
parcel into her hand. 

“It’s a present from us Juniors,” she said hur- 
riedly. “Please take it! It’s not much — only a 
birthday book — but we’ve all written our names in it, 
so that you mayn’t forget us. You’ve been so 
awfully good all the year in coaching us at hockey 
and cricket. I don’t know what we’re going to do 
without you when you’ve gone! Now, girls, are 
you ready? One, two, three!” 

And the ring of Juniors standing round shouted 
in one unanimous chorus: “Three cheers for our 
Games Captain! Hip-hip-hooray!” 


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